


Hypnagogia

by Beelzebumons



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Background Relationships, Biting, Blood and Violence, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other FE3H characters, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beelzebumons/pseuds/Beelzebumons
Summary: Caspar, by nature, has to help out people no matter what; it makes little difference whether the person in question is a stranger or not. But he didn’t imagine that danger would surface in the peaceful town of Garreg Mach, and that it would result in him accidentally lending a hand to a vampire.It’s how Caspar ends up hiding Linhardt, said vampire, from a sinister presence lurking in the shadows of this town.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 245
Kudos: 429





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here's one of the fics I've been working on for Nanowrimo! I've always wanted to write a vampire AU and i guess that lands on casphardt lmaooo
> 
> I'm estimating that this fic will have about 12 chapters but that might change a bit we'll see!! 
> 
> cw for this chapter: mention of alcohol/drunk character, injury/blood

Caspar is a bit dizzy as he walks home - he doesn’t often drink at parties, for various reasons, but there are times he doesn’t mind it. Especially when there’s something to celebrate, like Ashe’s birthday for example. 

Most of his friends have stayed at the bar longer than Caspar did. He wishes he could've spent a little more time with them, but he’s not sure it would’ve been a great idea considering he has work in the morning.

Still, the few shots that he ended up drinking quickly landed their effects on him, and now, it’s getting a bit difficult to even unlock his door. Once he gets in his apartment, he realizes that’s a bit hot in here, so he opens the window before heading to the bathroom for a shower. 

He stays perhaps a little longer than he should before getting ready for bed. He looks to the time on his phone again; one in the morning… he’s sure he’s going to regret everything tomorrow already, so he can’t worsen his case. 

He throws himself onto his bed, pulling the covers over himself while leaving the window open. There’s a light breeze flowing through the curtains, something refreshing and soothing, allowing Caspar to bury his head into his pillow for the night. 

Before he can close his eyes, his phone vibrates. 

Seems like Dorothea thought it would be a good idea to text him so late into the night. She was there at the party too, and showed how worried she was about the fact that he was going home alone.

_ >>Caspar, are you home? _

_Yea, got here half an hour ago, sorry I didnt say anything << _

_Whats wrong << _

_ >>There was a commotion outside apparently _

_ >>It was somewhere on the way to your place, so we were a little worried. Some people started fighting and we thought that you were involved. _

_Lmao << _

_Thanks for asking, im fine << _

  
  


As Dorothea’s neighbor, Caspar does feel a little concerned about how _she_ ’s going to go home. It would take about thirty minutes by foot, but he can’t imagine Dorothea walking for so long on her own so late at night. 

_You gonna be ok on the way back? << _

_ >>Yes. Petra is giving me a ride. _

_Ok cool. Ill talk to you later, Im exhausted << _

  
  


He actually didn’t hear anything strange when he walked home, so he shrugs it all off. He puts his phone back down, then lets sleep drag him away.

At least, for a little while.

He doesn’t know exactly what wakes him up. The breeze growing too cold, the sound of cars passing by, or the silhouette perched at his window. 

Caspar is in a strange state at this point; his body is convinced he’s still deeply asleep, so he can’t move much, and his consciousness is complete mush. Caspar only moves his eyes around to look at his surroundings, and ends up pressing his pillow onto his face to block out the sounds and images. 

“May I come in?” 

The voice startles him, although it’s only for a short moment. He’s long forgotten what time it is, and for how long he slept, but the voice isn’t something that concerns him much more than that. It’s probably one of his friends from the party who got in trouble and needed to escape or something. It’s not like it’s never happened before. 

Caspar can’t help but grumble from the lack of sleep, but doesn’t bother to take a clear look at the source of the voice. He guesses he’ll figure it out tomorrow. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles against the pillow, forcing himself to go back to sleep. 

He only hears the slight tap of a foot on the floor as the other person comes inside, then the sound of the window closing. Good, it was getting pretty cold. Some time passes, and Caspar still doesn’t move; something ruffles the sheets for an instant before he falls asleep, this time _completely_. 

The next time he awakens, it's thanks to his phone alarm. 

The music that plays into his ears is one that wakes him up usually in an instant, but he's still feeling much too groggy to be his usual self. He still manages to turn off his alarm before moving around, stretching his arms - 

His wrist bumps into something on his left. 

_Someone._

Caspar can't help but yelp in surprise as he notices the _complete stranger_ lying next to him in bed. He shifts back slightly, putting some distance between the two of them, and tries to get a good look at the other person who seems to be sleeping soundly. 

It's a young man, probably about the same age as Caspar is. His skin is pale, his limbs slender and his features handsome; his dark green hair is long enough to reach just below his shoulders. 

And he's _naked._

Fuck, now he’s really done it. 

He brought someone home after a party and he doesn’t even _remember_ who it is. 

If it weren't for the fact that Caspar can't trust himself to remember clearly what happened the night before, he would probably be screaming right now. But he can only do so internally as his eyes wander to the form lying next to him, unsure how to wake him up. And he has to go to work, too - how is he gonna deal with this... 

"Uh..." Caspar tries to speak up, then brings his hand forward. What should he do? Should he gently sweep the other man's hair out of his face and use some sweet names? The hell, how would he know?!

"Hey," Caspar blurts out, maybe a little louder than he intends to. "Sorry to wake you up. I have to get ready for work."

The figure at his side finally stirs awake, definitely displeased about the fact that he was dragged out of his slumber. His eyes slowly open, and he throws a puzzled look at Caspar. 

"Ugh…" 

That's all he has to say? 

Caspar can't help but blush as he tries to make sense of the situation. But he really has to get him out of here, he can't afford to be late. "Hey!" Caspar exclaims again, feeling a little guilty that he doesn't even remember the man's name. "I'm serious, I have to leave soon, so…" 

Before he can finish talking, the other man sits up, and the cover falls down his body. 

Oh, so he's not completely naked. He's still wearing a pair of pants, something loose and comfortable that Caspar usually puts on when he goes to sleep - wait, did he borrow it from Caspar’s closet? 

The man's green hair is completely disheveled, so he tries to comb it slightly with his fingers, yawning without restraint. 

"So, this is going to sound mean and all, but I have to be honest," Caspar begins, unsure which words to use. "I _really_ don't remember what happened last night. And I'm sorry."

The man on the other side of the bed lets his arms drop down, and the stare he gives him is even more confounded. A few awkward seconds pass before he finally _says_ something. 

"Hm, how do I explain this-" he starts, and half of a smile draws itself across his features. "You invited me in, and here I am."

Caspar bites at the inside of his cheek at how _vague_ the other man is being. It's ridiculous. He ruffles a hand through his hair, then realizes that his face is burning; the flush on his cheeks is probably noticeable. 

"Oh- you mean what we _did?_ " The stranger speaks again, his eyes widening under the assumption. He slowly shakes his head before grabbing at something on the nightstand to tie his hair into a half-bun, preventing it from getting in his face. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it wasn’t anything like you’re imagining. I just borrowed your shower and slept in your bed, that’s all.” 

More than disappointed, Caspar is _relieved_ . He’d hate to learn that he took a stranger to bed while not completely sober. He gives a long sigh, straightening himself again. “Then what happened?” He asks, this time a little more confident. “It’s strange, but I don’t remember even _meeting_ you…”

While Caspar is speaking, the other man is already putting back some clothes on - what kind of style is that. Really, Caspar isn’t one to care about fashion, but what is _that_ . He looks like some kind of librarian from the middle ages. “You were half-asleep when I came in,” he answers as he puts on his teal vest. “To tell you the truth, I was being chased by some delinquents and I got away by coming through your window. By the way, I _did_ ask if I could come in beforehand.” 

Caspar scratches his head. Right, he does vaguely remember agreeing to someone coming in, but he never thought it would’ve been some stranger. Then, he realizes something. 

“But this is the third floor?”

To that, the other man clears his throat. “I climbed. Your window was the only one that was open.”

Caspar feels like he’s still a bit too asleep to understand exactly what happened. Everything sounds surreal right now. “Well, I’m glad I unknowingly helped you to get out of that situation at least,” he says, then gets up to go to the kitchen. “But you should’ve woken me up, I would’ve gotten outside and beaten those guys up!” 

The other man shoots him another glance through the doorway, and Caspar stops in his tracks. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just a bit surprised that you would defend me without even knowing who I am,” the stranger says, and Caspar tilts his head - of _course,_ why wouldn’t he defend someone in need? What’s so surprising about it? “I’ll leave you be now, but thank you. I’ll find a way to repay you someday.” 

Caspar blinks in confusion as he watches the other man climbing to the window once again. “Wait, don’t you need to eat something first?” 

Once again, the stranger seems confused at Caspar’s instant familiarity. He sits at the edge of the window, head turned to him, and a small laugh escapes him. 

“I’ll be alright,” he says, “goodbye.”

Then, he _jumps_ out of the window. 

And this is _still_ the third floor, dammit! What’s going on this morning? Is Caspar really awake? Either way, he rushes to his room, then looks out the window expecting the worst -

But all he sees is an empty street, accompanied only with the sound of light rain falling upon the pavement and the neighbor’s dog barking at nothing. No sign of the stranger from earlier. 

Caspar tries to shrug it off before continuing his morning routine. 

Except, as time passes, he realizes he can’t really shrug it off. Especially when he takes the bus to work, a time when there’s nothing else he can do but think. He wishes he could’ve jogged there instead. 

Caspar soon arrives at the Officers Academy, the place he works at as a physical education teacher. Thankfully, he has a light schedule today; he’s still feeling a little gross from last night’s drinks, but does his best to hide it from the students. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s to be a bad example. During his lunch break, he meets up with a familiar face. 

“Still hungover?” 

Byleth, his friend and coworker. She’s another physical education teacher in this school, so the two had quickly become friends. Strangely enough, everyone who works here calls her “Professor”, for a reason that she had never wanted to explain to Caspar. Either way, Caspar does it too, as close as they are. 

“Hey Professor,” he says, raising his head from his lunchbox. “What, do I look hungover? And didn’t you drink way more than I did last night? How are you alive?”

Byleth shakes her head, her stare empty. “Alcohol does nothing to me.”

“You know what, I can believe it,” Caspar laughs, then gestures for her to sit next to him. “You and Dimitri are the only ones who actually look fully sober at parties like these, I don’t know how you do it.” 

“That’s just how it is,” Byleth says bluntly before eating a piece of her meal. “You remember that we’re having another party in two days, right? Ferdinand is inviting us to his house so we can use the pool.”

Oh, right. There’s no reason for them to meet up this time other than Ferdinand wanting to brag about the giant pool he just got built inside his house. But well, none of them are going to complain. Of course Caspar will go. 

The day goes by peacefully, and Caspar’s last class finally ends. By six in the afternoon, it’s already night outside, and Caspar decides that he doesn’t want to wait for the bus. He begins his walk home, earphones plugged in to drown out the outside noise. He ends up jogging all the way to his street, then gets into the building and walks to the third floor. 

But as he steps over the last set of stairs, he sees something that makes him drop his keys to the floor. 

The man from this morning is sitting right in front of his door, knees bent towards himself as he holds onto his own right wrist. 

Something seems to be wrong with him. He’s hiding his face into his own arm, and he looks like he’s… shaking a little. 

Caspar picks up his keys, then pulls out his earphones and rushes towards him. “Hey! Is everything alright?!” He asks hurriedly, kneeling down before him, and finally sees the blood on his left hand. 

The stranger doesn’t respond, his head still buried into his arm. Caspar inspects the back of his hand, and finds out that there’s a rather large laceration there, something that’s still bleeding. Beads of blood drip down the man’s fingers, and as Caspar tries to catch his attention, he shakes more violently. 

“What happened to your hand?!” Caspar speaks a little louder than he should, grabbing at the man’s wrist. The stranger flinches, then finally raises his head, although he keeps his stare as far away from his wound as he possibly can. “Hold on, let me open the door and I’ll help you! We gotta take care of this!”

Caspar helps him up, then quickly opens the door to his place. After some time fumbling around, he takes the stranger to the living room, then gives him a few tissues to cover his wound with. 

“Just put this on your hand while I get the bandages, alright?” Caspar says, and the stranger does so without question. It seems to help him calm down a little, at the very least. Not long after, Caspar brings some disinfectant along with the bandages to the table, then takes the man’s hand to take care of it. 

Now that the stranger doesn’t have any way of controlling the way he hides his wound, he turns his head away, looking at the wall instead. His throat hitches as he swallows sharply, and Caspar begins to gently wash the wound. 

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Caspar says, feeling the man’s hand tense in his own. “You looked like you were really panicking back there! What happened? Did you get into a fight again?!”

The stranger releases a breath that he seems to have been holding for a while. He takes some time to answer, feeling his own forehead with his uninjured hand. “I was… defending myself.” 

Caspar lets out a brief laugh as he reaches for the disinfectant. “Yeah, I guess you don’t really look like the type to _start_ fights,” he answers, then notices that the other man has started to cover his eyes with his other hand. There’s something strangely panicked about the way he breathes, and Caspar can’t help but be intrigued. 

“Hey, it’s just a little blood…” he starts, focusing on the task at hand. “You’re not gonna die from that, don’t worry.” 

The other man takes another deep breath, deciding not to answer for the time being. It takes a few more minutes for Caspar to finish bandaging the wound, putting the first-aid kit away once he’s done. The stranger looks down at his own hand, and lets out a relieved sigh. 

“Thank you,” he finally utters, looking back to Caspar with a small smile. Caspar believes for an instant that the man is going to leave as quickly as he did this morning, but instead, he relaxes in his seat, yawning with a hand in front of his mouth. 

“Well, you’re welcome…” Caspar says, then sits at his side, still a bit confused. “I’m surprised you came to see me for this. More importantly though - who did this to you? Are they the same guys as last night?”

The stranger blinks, head swaying slightly; he looks absolutely _exhausted_. “They were from the same group of people. To be honest, they’ve been after me for a few days… but it seems like running away doesn’t always work.”

To this, Caspar’s brow furrows. He hurriedly gets up from his chair, then strides to his windows one by one to close all the curtains, as if someone from the outside could see them. “What could someone like you have done to be chased down like that?!” He asks, and the stranger’s eyes widen at Caspar’s reaction. “I’m gonna help you, okay? But first, I need to know your name, and what you did.”

Something seems to light up in the other man’s eyes as his expression grows warmer. After some time of thought, he finally nods, then gently rubs at his own bandaged hand. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and Caspar notices it. 

His canines are sharp. So sharp that they could be called fangs. And now that Caspar looks at him closer, he realizes that his blue eyes shine for a short moment, and that his pupils are shaped like two black diamonds. 

“My name is Linhardt von Hevring,” he answers, “and I’m a vampire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this first chapter! There will be some lore in this that I hope you will like, also I really wanted to include other fe3h characters in this so some of them are gonna show up eventually but the focus is gonna stay on caspar and linhardt :))
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons ! Kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, uh...” Caspar hesitates, unsure how to even answer. “Well, the fangs sure don’t look fake. How’d you end up in Garreg Mach then?” He asks, then adds with a laugh; “Here to take everyone’s blood?” 
> 
> He doesn’t know why he said that at all. That’s actually a pretty terrifying thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !! it is my birthday!! Here's an update !! Here we got a bit more lore and uhh worldbuilding? just a little bit lmao  
> Hope you like it!

“Wait, wait wait wait,” Caspar shakes his head repeatedly, his stare full of disbelief as he tries one more time to catch a glimpse of Linhardt’s fangs. “Are you serious? A _vampire_?”

Linhardt nods lazily, as if he hadn’t just said the weirdest damn thing that Caspar’s heard all day. “Although you could argue that I’m only a _half_ vampire. My father is a human after all.”

Caspar feels like something heavy was dropped right onto his head. He scratches it in confusion; sure, he knew that vampires existed, but definitely not around here…

“Okay, uh...” Caspar hesitates, unsure how to even answer. “Well, the fangs sure don’t look fake. How’d you end up in Garreg Mach then?” He asks, then adds with a laugh; “Here to take everyone’s blood?” 

He doesn’t know why he said that at all. That’s actually a pretty terrifying thought. 

To this, Linhardt’s expression turns into a pained grimace as he sighs. “Nothing of the sort, no. Just hearing something like that gives me goosebumps. I’d rather not attack anyone for their blood, really...”

For a moment, Caspar wonders just _what_ kind of situation he’s gotten himself into. He’s a master at letting improbable things happen to him, maybe he should start getting used to it after all these years. But Linhardt truly does look disturbed by the idea that Caspar brought up. 

“The first reason why I’m here is research,” he continues as Caspar raises his gaze. 

“Research?” 

“Yes,” Linhardt affirms, happily lost in thought. “I find humans to be extremely fascinating. Humans aren’t common where I come from, so now that my parents have loosened their grip on me, I’ve decided to come to Garreg Mach to… watch humans a little. It’s just a bit of harmless observation, so you truly don’t need to worry.”

With a pensive hum, Caspar leans back into his chair. “...Where do you come from?” 

“Enbarr, the capital of the Adrestian Empire,” Linhardt answers without hesitation, and Caspar is actually surprised that Linhardt already trusts him with information like that. Well, it’s not like Caspar even knows _where_ that is in the first place. “Which brings me to my second reason for coming here. The capital is plunged into a gruesome chaos every single day; I wanted to escape all of that. But I truly didn’t expect the Agarthans to follow me all the way here…”

“Agarthans?” Caspar squints. “Are they the people trying to hurt you?” 

With a nod, Linhardt sighs. “They’re a kind of vampire as well. And half vampires like myself are extremely rare... I know that their goal is to capture me and study me in whatever way they can. And from what I’ve heard, it involves a lot of painful experiments.”

Caspar abruptly gets up from his seat, frowning with sheer disgust. “What the hell?! Where are these guys? I’ll go after them!” 

Surprised, Linhardt brings a hand forward to gesture to the chair so that he calmly sits back down. Obviously, Caspar doesn’t, but he agrees to stay in place at least. “Don’t. It’s too reckless. I didn’t come here to ask you to fight them for me.”

Caspar glances back to Linhardt’s bandaged wound. He’s not sure what caused a cut like that, but the image of whatever weapon it was plunging itself someplace more fatal flashes through his mind. He shakes his head to chase it away. “... You don’t have anywhere to go, right?” 

Linhardt is the one to shake his head this time, blinking wearily. “All the hiding places I had were found out eventually. Your home is the only place I’ve found I know they won’t search; Agarthans aren’t too fond of approaching humans. And as I’ve said this morning, you were the only one with an open window who actually agreed to let me in in the middle of the night.”

“Oh.” His shoulders sink slightly. He still doesn’t really know what went through his mind last night to allow a stranger to get into his home like this, but at the same time, he’s glad he did. At least it allowed Linhardt to be safe for a moment. 

A silence passes as Caspar tries to make sense of it all. Hiding a vampire… isn’t something he thought he’d ever have to do one day. And he supposes he doesn’t _have_ to - but what else can he do?! He’s not going to hand Linhardt over to the Agarthans, that’s for sure; but kicking him out will probably give the same results in the end. And it’s not like he _wants_ to kick him out either. 

“I don’t have much to offer in return for now, unfortunately,” Linhardt speaks up again when he notices Caspar’s eyebrows twitching from his inner conflict. “But I’ll be eternally grateful if you let me stay here temporarily. I promise I won’t take up too much space; I mostly nap all day, anyway.”

Caspar doesn’t think he has a choice. His expression grows a bit nervous, however. “I definitely don’t want these people to catch you… but you’re a vampire. I probably should be worried that you’ll end up drinking my blood while I sleep at some point, right?” 

With his gaze shifting left and right, Linhardt waits a few seconds before answering. “Probably not.” 

Caspar waits for some kind of explanation, but when Linhardt gives none, he covers the sides of his neck with his hands. 

His reaction prompts Linhardt to explain himself further, although he still does so with a sigh. “Really, Caspar. As a half vampire, I don’t need to drink blood as often as regular vampires do. Everything will be fine.”

“Okay!” Caspar nods, already placing his trust into this complete stranger. He knows he should be a little more careful than this, but honestly, what else is he going to do? 

“Um. How do you know my name, by the way?” Caspar asks as he realizes what Linhardt had just said. 

And Linhardt doesn’t seem phased at all. “I saw it on your mailbox. Do you honestly believe I would impose myself on someone without even taking the time to learn at least their name?” 

“Alright, Linhardt -” Caspar starts, and decides to stop thinking. Thinking isn’t really his forte anyway. “You can stay. You don’t look like a bad person, and I really don’t want you to get caught by those Agarthan guys. But if they show up anywhere near this place, you have to tell me. I’ll beat them up until they leave you alone!”

Linhardt still seems surprised by Caspar’s enthusiasm to take on the Agarthans, something that causes him to smile for just an instant. “I appreciate the thought, Caspar,” he answers, and leaves it at that. 

At this time of the year, the night falls rather quickly. Caspar doesn’t need to open his curtains any longer, and he doesn’t think he will for a while. He doesn’t know what these other vampires are capable of, but if there’s any chance they could notice Linhardt through the windows even from the third floor, he’d better avoid it completely. 

Their first few hours together are pretty awkward. Caspar tries to go about his day, but realizes that it’s a lot more challenging when there’s another unusual presence in the room. Linhardt is a calm person and only asks if Caspar has a few books to lend first; considering Caspar doesn’t read much, his collection mostly consists of old comic books he used to read as a kid and still hasn't gotten rid of.

The moment Caspar is about to start his workout routine, he’s stopped by Linhardt’s voice after he’s seemingly done lazily flipping through the pages of the colorful comic books. “Do you have other reading material, by any chance?” 

“Uh…” Caspar quickly glances around the room, and that’s when he realizes how little of it he owns. Isn’t it a normal amount of books for one person? How is Linhardt already finished with all of it? 

“Oh, there.” Linhardt seems to find the answer for himself as he reaches for the _manual of the air conditioner_ \- 

“Wait, there’s _nothing_ interesting in there,” Caspar laughs as he takes the paper from him, throwing it somewhere else before grabbing his laptop that’s been sitting at the corner of the table. “Just use my laptop. You’ll definitely find stuff to read there. Uh…” His brow knits as he looks at Linhardt’s unreadable expression. “You know how to use a computer, right?”

Linhardt’s eyebrows raise slightly. “What? Of course I do,” he answers, “you’re really lending it to me?” 

“Well you look like you’ll die of boredom if you don’t read anything,” Caspar casually waves his hand. “Just don’t look at my history and we’re good.” 

He’s about to take back his laptop when he notices Linhardt stifling a giggle, but leaves it in his hand when his eyes light up with interest nonetheless. “Thank you. Don’t worry, I’ll only use it for my own research,” Linhardt says, already sliding his fingers over the keyboard to type in a few words. 

Caspar goes back to his treadmill, although he can’t help being wary of what could be going on in the streets outside his home. He seems to be the only one to feel that way for this long, because Linhardt is so engrossed in whatever he’s looking at on the screen that all the traces of worry have left his countenance. 

Even when Caspar goes to bed, Linhardt doesn’t immediately follow, as exhausted as he looked earlier. Perhaps his curiosity was the only thing keeping him awake at that point. 

Caspar does get a few hours of sleep that night, before he’s woken up by a strange, muffled voice. His eyelids slowly open, and he’s met with the sight of Linhardt who’s fallen asleep in his bed _again_. 

He’s almost startled for a moment, before he remembers that he didn’t actually oppose to Linhardt sleeping in his bed. But well, he’s not going to wake him up when he seems to be sleeping so peacefully, finally surrendering to fatigue after all this time browsing Caspar’s computer. Caspar lifts his gaze to find his laptop on his desk, still opened on the Wikipedia page for ‘treadmill’.

He can’t help but smile lightly, but before he can ready himself to go back to sleep, he hears that muffled voice again. 

“ _He was seen somewhere around this street,”_ it says, and Caspar holds his breath. “ _The breathing in this room is strange. What if he’s in here?”_

The Agarthans…?

Caspar moves slowly from under the covers - it seems like the voice comes _directly_ from outside his window. His blood turns to ice, but he tries to move to get to the window anyway, only to be stopped by a hand on his wrist. 

Linhardt has woken up; he doesn’t make a sound, only looks at Caspar with eyes wide open in distress. And then, he shakes his head slowly. 

Caspar wants to argue that he should get out of here and fight them while he can - when will he be able to but now? But the pleading gaze that Linhardt gives him is enough to keep him in place, forcing him to simply listen to whatever they have to say.

“ _Don’t touch it, that’s a human’s home,”_ another muffled voice says, and Caspar tries to breathe as calmly as he can. It seems like he can be heard. “ _Why would a human let a vampire in? He’s probably found another hiding place. Let’s keep searching, we’ll find him eventually.”_

Caspar grits his teeth. How dare they? What right do they have to do such things? If only he could walk outside and - 

Linhardt squeezes his wrist a little harder, and Caspar notices that he’s trembling. He quickly looks back at him, then waits for some time to hear more of their conversation, only to be met with silence. Instead, he notices how different Linhardt’s breathing sounds. Slow and calm, rare, even, as if he only needed a small wisp of air every now and then. 

After the Agarthans leave the surroundings, a frown darkens Caspar’s brow. 

“Were they…”

“Yes,” Linhardt whispers hurriedly, slowly releasing his wrist and flinching at the motion. It seems like he’s put too much tension on his injured hand. “They’re the ones looking for me. Caspar, you don’t know what they’re capable of. Don’t come closer to them. As long as they don’t see you acting suspiciously, they won’t do anything.”

The frustration mounts within him. Indeed, he has no clue what kind of tricks these people have up their sleeves. But judging by Linhardt's reaction, it must be _terrifying._

"If I don't stop them now, they could come at you another time!" Caspar keeps protesting, and Linhardt reflectively grabs at his wrist once again. 

"Caspar, I already fought them yesterday," he insists, "they've drained me of my strength, which means if you go at them now, you'll be alone." 

Caspar finally settles down. As fired up as he is at the moment, Linhardt does have a point; Caspar's tried to take on several people at once on his own before, and there were times it didn't end very well for him. 

That, and maybe fighting them now would reveal Linhardt’s hiding place and endanger him. Caspar hates it, but calming down is the only thing he can do now. 

"I guess you're right," Caspar says, lying back down onto his bed. "But what can we do? We can't just let them roam around this town endlessly until they give up."

Linhardt releases him once more, and he brings his own hand in front of his mouth, yawning loudly. Right, it's still really late.

"'Giving up' is not something they're capable of, I'm afraid," Linhardt answers, closing his eyes as he slides his hand under his pillow. "We should discuss this tomorrow. For now, I'd really like to sleep."

By the time Linhardt is done speaking, it seems like he's already fallen back asleep. 

Caspar, however, is wide awake. The hyper-awareness certainly doesn't help; every little sound he hears causes him to sit up and wait for the threat to show. For some time, he can't help but toss and turn, realizing that he'd always taken the space in his bed for granted.

He doesn't know how long it took for him to fall asleep again, but he's once again woken up by his alarm in the morning. 

As he gets up from his bed, he looks back at Linhardt; he sleeps so heavily that the music hasn't even woken him up. His head is still buried in the pillow, his hair an absolute mess as all he does in response to the loud alarm is turn around to face the wall. 

Caspar isn't sure if he should wake him up. He has to go to work today, so leaving without warning would probably confuse Linhardt a bit, wouldn’t it…?

Well, he still has two hours in front of him to get ready for the day. He does so while staying as quiet as possible, and once he gets to the kitchen, he realizes something. 

Should he make breakfast for his new guest? 

As far as he knows, vampires don't actually eat human food; but most of what he knows about them comes from fiction and old tales. Maybe he should make a little more food than usual, and leave some out for Linhardt if he wants it… 

He ends up putting a lot of effort in the usual omelets he makes for himself, and has some trouble making the least noise possible in the process. After a few moments, he notices Linhardt dragging his feet into the small kitchen, and Caspar can't tell if he was woken up by the noise or the smell of spinach and olives lingering in the air. 

"Ah, sorry for waking you up," Caspar says, a little flustered as he holds out two plates full of food. “I made breakfast, but I don’t know if you can actually eat it? Sorry, I uh, haven’t done a lot of research on _real_ vampires.” 

Linhardt, who seems like he’s still at least seventy percent asleep, looks down at the plates with a surprised expression. “Thank you, Caspar,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Vampires don’t usually eat human food, _but_ as I’ve told you, I’m only a half vampire. I can eat it without any problems.”

“Oh! That’s great!” Caspar beams, overjoyed at the fact that for once, he didn’t cook for _just_ himself. “I’m not the greatest at this, but I hope you like it!”

The two waste no time sitting down to eat, and thankfully, Linhardt seems to enjoy it. Even Caspar is fairly proud of himself for this particular breakfast. Linhardt eats mostly silently, in small quantities, while Caspar devours his own plate just as quickly as he does every morning. 

“By the way, I have to go to work soon,” Caspar speaks up, scratching his head. “How are we gonna do this? Do you plan on staying here all day? Because I only have one key to my apartment.”

Linhardt stops eating for the time being, and hums to himself. “... I didn’t expect you to be alright with me staying here while you were away,” he says, “you’re generous, Caspar. I promise I won’t cause too much trouble.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna kick you out…” Caspar muses, rolling his shoulders into a shrug. “Your hand is still injured, and it’s still dangerous for you out there. I’m not heartless.” 

Linhardt sighs contentedly. “I can tell. Not many people would go as far as you do for a stranger, you know.”

He’s about to say something more before he’s startled by Caspar’s phone buzzing against the table. “Oh, sorry! Hold on, I’ll answer this real quick.” Caspar reaches for it, noticing that the text comes from his friend Ferdinand. 

_ >>This is a grouped text! I am messaging you to remind you that you are all impatiently awaited at my house at eight in the evening tonight. Do not forget your swimsuit! _

Damn. Caspar’s completely forgotten about this, even though Ferdinand had been talking about this indoor pool party for _months_. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go, but there’s someone he probably shouldn’t leave alone at home all night right now…

_Hey Ferdinand << _

_I know I’m asking this last minute, but is it okay if I bring someone with me tonight? <<_

_> >Of course, I do not mind! But who might that be? Someone I know?_

Alright. Now Caspar has to lie entirely. He doesn’t like to do that, but explaining that he’s hiding a vampire is even more complicated. 

_Nope. A childhood friend came to visit me unexpectedly and is staying at my place << _

_Can’t really leave him alone here yknow <<_

_ >>Of course, then! I will be honored. _

_Thanks man << _

_> >Please do not be late, Caspar. _

Caspar puts his phone back down, and Linhardt’s stare follows him. It seems like he’s been watching him text for this whole conversation.

“Hey so, I don’t feel good about leaving you here alone tonight either, but I have a party after work. So you’re coming with me,” Caspar explains, not leaving Linhardt much choice, to which the vampire’s eyebrows raise. 

“A _party_?” He says, his expression growing unsure. “I don’t doubt that I’ll be safe there with you, but that sounds utterly exhausting. Are you sure you can’t just let me stay here to sleep?” 

“Nuh-uh,” Caspar shakes his head repeatedly, “I’m guessing full vampires like the Agarthans can’t walk around during the day like you do, so they’ll be more active at night - you remember how close they came to my window yesterday? I’ll feel better as long as you come with me. Besides, you don’t need to sleep _all_ the time, do you?”

Linhardt brings his hand over his forehead, his fingers gently massaging his brow. Hesitation causes him to grumble for a few seconds. “Drowsiness is an enemy even more challenging to fight than the Agarthans,” he says, and Caspar barks out a laugh. 

“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs, waving his hand. “You can probably borrow one of Ferdinand’s rooms if you want. His house is _huge_. So you’ll still be able to sleep if you really want to.”

Linhardt yawns once again, and it _really_ doesn’t look like he can fight it at all. Caspar’s never met anyone so sleepy in his life, but then again, that might be another half-vampire thing. “That does sound like a compromise,” Linhardt utters, still seeming a little reluctant, but Caspar will leave it at that. 

He finishes getting ready for work, although he has to hurry now that he’s spend this long just chatting and texting. When he finds himself standing in front of his door with his sports bag hoisted over his shoulder, he throws his guest a salute. 

“Help yourself with whatever’s in the fridge,” he says, “I’ll be back sometime around six. Oh, and you can use my computer again too, if you want.”

Linhardt hasn’t moved much ever since he’s started eating breakfast; truth be told, he’d very much like to lie back down and finish his night in the peaceful quiet of Caspar’s home. 

After Caspar closes the door behind him, Linhardt does enjoy the quiet, although it’s only for a short instant. Caspar’s presence and energy had distracted him from the intense hunger running through his cold veins. The breakfast at least helped to smother the feeling a little, but now… 

Linhardt looks down onto his hand, slowly removing the bandage. Thanks to his nature, the wound is already completely gone; but he still stares at it to try and remind himself of the horrific sight of blood until he’s disgusted by it. But it’s been too many days. 

It seems like he’ll just have to bear it for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))) linhardt craving blood is still inevitable. i wonder how he'll deal with that 
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar whips his head around, looking at Linhardt, who's hanging his head down to avoid being seen. 
> 
> "What's going on?" Caspar asks in a whisper, while everyone else present in the train just starts to sigh in annoyance at the brutal stop. 
> 
> "Breathe calmly, and please," Linhardt explains as quietly as he can. "Don't move."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heres an update yall!!! This chapter was so fun to write oh my god, hope u like it
> 
> cw: body horror (sort of), blood drinking, drunk Linhardt, very very slight spice at the end

_ >>Ferdie said you were bringing someone to the party tonight! _

_ >>Who is it? You have to tell me _

_ Hey Dorothea<< _

_ Just a childhood friend who’s visiting me<< _

_ >>Just a friend then? I’m rolling my eyes, Caspar _

_ Wtf is that supposed to mean >:( << _

  
  


Dorothea leaves him on read after this. Caspar is pretty used to her teasing, but he’s thankful that she doesn’t press any further, because he’s starting his first class anyway - and Goddess knows how taxing it is to teach volleyball to a bunch of ninth-graders. 

It does help in distracting him, he supposes. As soon as his classes end, he’s soon back to thinking about the other man in his house, worrying about how he’ll find his apartment once he goes back home, or if Linhardt is truly safe over there on his own. It’s in these times he wishes he were rich enough to install an alarm at his place. 

He also supposes he would be getting a call from his old and retired neighbors if they were to hear something suspicious, but Caspar can only hope that Agarthans actually make enough noise for that. It’s not like he’s ever met one before. 

During his fifteen minute break, he finds Byleth in the break room, who’s resting with her arms crossed on the couch, her feet propped up on the table, and a sleeping mask in front of her eyes. Fucking weird as usual. Caspar sits nearby, not expecting any conversation; after all, she seems to be sleeping. 

“Hey,” she says, and it’s so unexpected that Caspar almost jumps out of his seat. “I’m sleeping.”

Caspar’s eyebrows raise, and he rubs a hand across his forehead as he leans back. “Congratulations?” He answers, confusedly staring at her and wondering if she actually did talk while sleeping or if she’s just messing with him. 

She straightens herself abruptly, and takes off her sleeping mask - her eyes are wide open, and it doesn’t seem like she’s been sleeping at all. “You should also sleep. You look tired,” she says, and hands him her sleeping mask. 

“What are you even talking about?” Caspar clicks his tongue. “Okay, maybe I didn’t get my usual eight hours of sleep. But it happens to the best of us! Sometimes sleep just gets interrupted by stuff.”

Byleth gives him those dead fish eyes again, keeping the mask with her as she withdraws. “Oh, stuff?” 

“Yeah, stuff!” Caspar insists, his face going red; damn, he knew even just something as small as his lack of sleep would be complicated to explain properly. He’s usually so energetic that it’s almost like no one’s ever seen him sleeping. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to win against me in our swimming race tonight!” 

“I wasn’t going to compete with you,” Byleth answers bluntly. 

“Oh you’re gonna.” As the bell rings to announce the end of his break, Caspar remembers that he has to teach some other kids, a much calmer group, thankfully. “How are you going to Ferdinand’s house later anyway?”

Byleth gets up, stuffing her phone in the pocket of her jacket. “I’m driving there with Dimitri, but sorry, I can’t pick you up. We’re already taking Ashe and Hilda with us.”

“Damn…” Caspar can’t help but sigh, because he’d truly counted on not having to go out in public for too long. But it’s not like he can impose himself on anyone else; out of everybody in his friend group, the only two people with cars are Dimitri and Ferdinand. 

“That’s okay.” Caspar shrugs lightly. “We’ll take the bus or something.”

“‘We’?”

Caspar’s eyes shift left and right, and Goddess, is he terrible at making up answers. “Uh, yeah. I’m bringing a friend with me! Just a childhood friend though! Haha!” 

“Sounds fun,” Byleth simply says, accepting Caspar’s blatant lie. There’s no way to tell if she actually believes him or not, though. “Anyway, I’ll see you later. And really, I’m not racing against you.”

“We’ll see about that!” Caspar exclaims, and after he obtains no other response, he turns to join his students outside. 

The night is already slowly falling by the time Caspar leaves the academy - damn autumn and it's shitty shortened days. He jogs back home once again instead of waiting for the bus, going a little faster than usual. He's still worried about how things went back home, so he doesn't want to waste any more time. 

When he unlocks his door and gets inside, he notices that all the lights are turned off and all the curtains are closed. Some sort of quiet voice talks calmly from his bedroom, and so he advances carefully, opening the door… 

From where he stands, he can only see Linhardt’s head resting on a pile of three pillows, the rest of his body covered in blankets. The room is comfortably warm, and Caspar’s laptop is on the other side of the bed, playing some sort of documentary on low volume despite Linhardt being fully asleep. 

Turns out he did nothing all day. It's kind of like having a cat. 

He almost feels bad that he has to wake him up. Gently, he takes the laptop off the bed, then turns it off. "Linhardt?" He whispers, unsure what to do besides using his voice - should he try tapping him on the shoulder? 

"Linhardt, it's me," Caspar says, and before his hand can reach the other man's shoulder, Linhardt stirs a little. His eyes flutter open, and as soon as he sees Caspar, they turn crimson. 

Something strange and new shines in his gaze, and he suddenly jolts awake, his lips parted to reveal his sharp fangs - and after half a second, he gasps, as his eyes turn back to their blue color. 

"Caspar," he utters his name, as if he were surprised to see him. "You're already back?" 

"Did you really sleep  _ all day _ ?" Caspar asks as he refuses to acknowledge what he just saw as concerning. 

"Yes," Linhardt answers, his tone devoid of guilt, and he's  _ still  _ yawning, even. "Honestly, I haven't slept so peacefully in a while. Your bed is amazing." 

Caspar mumbles quietly enough for Linhardt not to hear. "It really  _ is _ like having a cat." 

"What?" 

"Nothing," Caspar laughs to himself. "Anyway, we gotta go soon. I don't want Ferdinand getting on my case for being late, but we have enough time to shower at least."

Linhardt stretches his arms, sitting up as he passes his hand through his hair. "You go first. I need some more time to completely wake up."

Goddess, it's even worse than Caspar had thought. But he supposes it's endearing, in a way. He hurries to the shower, then quickly dries his hair once he's done, and Linhardt goes after him, not looking even a little bit more energetic than before. 

Around seven, the two are finally ready to go. Caspar lends some of his clothes to his guest, because there's no way Linhardt is going to a pool party with his weird librarian attire. They're slightly small for him, but it'll do for now. 

Caspar looks around outside with a wary eye, but nothing seems to be out of place. They'll have to take the subway train in order to gain some time going to Ferdinand's house. On the way to the station, Caspar expects Linhardt to complain, but he mostly stays silent, his eyes drowsy and his hands in his pockets. 

"You ever been in one of those?" Caspar asks discreetly when they walk to the underground station, and it's almost like it wakes Linhardt up from a sleepwalking state. 

"I've been on a train, I suppose, but…" when the subway train arrives in front of them, Linhardt's eyes open a little wider. "Not one like this."

Caspar bumps his elbow against the other man's own to prompt him to walk inside. "It's basically the same, just underground. Don't be nervous."

"I'm not…?" 

Once the two are inside, they find two seats to rest their legs a bit, and after the doors close once more, the train departs immediately. 

Linhardt tries to look outside every now and then, but all he can find is darkness and a few fire exits. Caspar realizes that it isn't that exciting in the end, so to make the travel time a little less boring, he decides to talk. 

"By the way, I told my friends that you and I were childhood friends," he says, as Linhardt turns his head to face him. "So you should play along, okay? If they ask, just say we went to elementary school together."

Linhardt nods lightly. "The fact that we have no more details to give will make it even  _ more _ convincing,” he replies, voice full of sarcasm. “I'll let you deal with the explanations if some of your friends do get curious."

"Hey, not cool!" Caspar complains as he glares at him. "I knew it. I’m definitely going to look like an a-" 

Just as Caspar is about to curse loudly in a public place, the train screeches against the rails, and stops abruptly. The sudden force almost causes them to topple forward, but Caspar holds himself onto the pole, pressing his arm against Linhardt's front so that he doesn't fall. 

And then, all the lights turn off. 

"Shit…" Caspar grumbles, straightening himself and withdrawing his arm. "Yeah, subway trains are alright until they do this." 

"Caspar, quiet."

As Linhardt whispers the words, he pulls Caspar's hood over his head, hiding as much of his face as he can, then does the same thing to hide himself. Caspar feels Linhardt’s hand tugging at his sleeve, as if he were preparing to drag him away. But for now, the two remain in their seats. 

Caspar whips his head around, looking at Linhardt, who's hanging his head down to avoid being seen. 

"What's going on?" Caspar asks in a whisper, while everyone else present in the train just starts to sigh in annoyance at the brutal stop. 

"Breathe calmly, and  _ please _ ," Linhardt explains as quietly as he can. "Don't move."

When this happens in everyday life, usually the lights don't take much longer to turn back on. But the train remains plunged in darkness for some more time; the only source of light are the dim emergency lights in the tunnel. 

Caspar swallows sharply. There was never anything to worry about whenever the train would stop in its tracks, even this abruptly. It had always been a mild inconvenience at worst. But seeing how Linhardt is reacting to it, there's definitely something amiss.

After a minute passes, a loud  _ BANG  _ resonates above them. 

Caspar's shoulders jump, and a cold gust of air passes through. Some other people seem alarmed by the noise, looking at each other for answers that no one has, until the sound crashes into their ears again. 

Again, and again. As if  _ something  _ were crawling on the outside of the train, something  _ huge _ . Caspar can feel himself tensing up, and his arm accidentally bumps against Linhardt's own - he can now see how much he’s trembling… 

"What the hell is that?!" 

One of the passengers' voice cracks out of fear as he shouts the words. As soon as he's heard by the others, a mass of screams breaks the silence. Whatever's been crawling across the train seems to come closer,  _ closer,  _ until finally, Caspar sees it. 

A giant spider-like monster, with only four long legs wrapped around the train, with claws nearly piercing through the windows. As it shifts its position and drags its body down, Caspar notices the body under the emergency lights; its flesh is black and gooey, covered in teeth in places where they shouldn’t be, and bulging, bloodshot eyes. There’s a sort of face in the center, something that looks human, yet not - it changes shapes as the seconds pass. 

"... Shit, shit shit shit, what the fuck, what the fu-" 

"Don't let it see you, Caspar!" Linhardt exclaims, placing his hand on top of Caspar's head to push it out of sight. Linhardt ducks as well, adjusting his breathing. Caspar is pretty sure he's never felt death hovering this close over him - if only he had some kind of axe, he could force his way out of here and destroy this thing that's terrifying everyone, but… 

It doesn't seem like luck is on his side today. Over the panicked shouts of the passengers, something loud and high-pitched comes from the same side of the train, right outside as well. Caspar reflectively lifts his head to look, and by the time his gaze lands on that monster again, it’s being savagely attacked by bats. 

Three bats. One of them is black, and the other two are white. Caspar doesn't believe that such tiny animals can actually do any damage to this monstrosity, but he couldn't be more wrong - they attack it relentlessly, biting at the eyes, legs, until the creature falls down. 

The monster scurries away, crawling across the walls of the tunnel, roaring into the emptiness of the underground. Followed by that are the screeches of the three bats that chase after it, and soon after they're gone, the lights of the train turn back on. 

_ "Please remain seated until the train arrives to its next stop." _

After hearing the voice over the speakers, Caspar pulls down his hoodie. "What the  _ fuck  _ was that?! They’re not even gonna address it?!" 

"Shh, don't be so loud!" Linhardt says, putting his finger in front of his lips. "Let's get down at the next station. We can't stay here anymore."

Caspar, who’s still alarmed by it all, can’t help but look left and right to see if that thing is trying to come back. When the train does arrives to its next stop, the two finally hurry to leave, darting out of the station to find themselves in a street still far away from Ferdinand’s place. 

“Who knew they’d be looking through the tunnels, of  _ all  _ places…” Linhardt mutters as he rubs at his temples, finally pulling down his hood. 

“Are you going to explain to me what that was?!” 

It doesn’t seem like anyone is close enough to hear them, so Linhardt decides to answer after a sigh. “That was a demonic beast. I believe I’ve told you that the Agarthans try to avoid facing humans, yes?”

“Hmm-hm”, Caspar hums in response, nodding vigorously. 

“Well, whenever they have to deal with something that’s much closer to humans, their mages usually send out a demonic beast. They don’t care if that one gets ripped apart instead of them. That one… was most likely sent out to find me.” 

Caspar’s brow furrows in frustration again. Now, there’s no way he can leave Linhardt alone. If a monster like this were to find him while he’s on his own… he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would end up.

“You wanna go home? I’ll find an excuse for Ferdinand,” Caspar says, already taking out his phone.

“There’s no need, really. It’s not possible for this monster to still be alive after the bats attacked it. We’ll be fine until they manage to summon another beast.”

Caspar sighs in relief, giving up on texting his friend. They’ll definitely be late, but Ferdinand will just have to deal with that. “Wait, about those bats… They’re just bats, right? How can they actually kill a monster like that?”

Linhardt shakes his head, smiling a little. “Oh, no. Those weren't  _ really _ bats. They’re vampires, too, but they’ve transformed so they could move faster.”

“Oh.” Caspar pauses, waiting to see if Linhardt is going to confirm whether he was joking or not. But he’s completely serious. “...Are they friends of yours?” 

Linhardt puts his finger to his chin, thinking silently. “I’m not sure… I don’t really recognize these forms. But two white bats, that’s certainly strange…”

Caspar scratches his head in confusion, but no matter what, there’s no way he can fully understand what just happened. What he knows for certain is that they have to be a lot more careful than he thought. “Either way, just stay close to me tonight. We’ll try to avoid taking the subway train when we go home too.”

“Understood,” Linhardt says, and the two end up pulling their hoods back on. “Where do we go from here?”

“Uh…” Caspar looks around, but he realizes that they’ve arrived in a part of the city he doesn’t know that well. Perhaps now is the time to pull out his phone. Once he types in Ferdinand’s address, he sighs. 

“Looks like we have to walk,” Caspar explains, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry. I know you’re tired, I can carry you if you want -” 

“No, no, I’ll walk with you. People could get concerned if they see you carrying someone on your back, and try to ask questions. I’d rather not bump into any strangers in the middle of the street.”

“Alright,” Caspar says, then places a hand on Linhardt’s back to prompt him to walk at his side. “Then follow me. It’ll take about half an hour for us to get there.” 

The weather isn’t the best, so the two often find themselves shivering, but walking faster does help a little. As the time passes, Caspar’s phone keeps buzzing; right, it must be Ferdinand asking him where he is. He hasn’t looked at the time, but they’re definitely late. Caspar is much too focused on his surroundings to be looking at his phone, however. 

After a while, Caspar and Linhardt finally reach Ferdinand’s neighborhood. The streets are fairly empty for now, so they can relax and pull their hoods down. When they arrive in front of his door, Caspar rings the doorbell, and the door is  _ instantly  _ pushed open. 

“Where have you been?!” Ferdinand scolds him as he pulls him inside, and Caspar reflectively grabs Linhardt’s wrist so that he doesn’t get left behind. “I sent you countless messages! I thought that something had happened to you!” 

“Haha, sorry…” Caspar laughs weakly, releasing Linhardt’s wrist when he realizes that he’s still holding it. “I had no reception in the train. Anyway, meet Linhardt. He’s my childhood friend.”

“It is nice to meet you! I am Ferdinand von Aegir,” the other man answers, and Linhardt can’t help but squint a little. He wants to trust Caspar when he says that all his friends are all good people, but life has taught him to be cautious at all times, especially in an unknown environment. He’s never even been to a party like this before. 

But all these humans gathered in one place… He may be exhausted, but he can’t say that he isn’t at least a little enthusiastic. 

“Please come in! Everyone has been waiting for you!” Ferdinand says, gesturing for the two to follow him. They nod along, and Linhardt curiously eyes everything that he sees. The fireplace that burns even though it doesn’t seem to have any wood, the various electronic devices lying about, the coat hanger full of cloaks and scarves; it looks like many people were invited. It’s only when they reach a veranda with a transparent roof that he sees the group of guests. 

The pool is built inside, and all the doors are closed so that the cold doesn’t come in, but the glass doors and walls allow them to see the starry sky. In the large room, there are people talking and laughing together, and some are already swimming. 

Linhardt doesn’t even know where to stand at this point. Somewhere along the way, Caspar has drifted away to greet his friends, while Linhardt stood motionless in the entryway. He ends up following, and when he reaches the others again, Caspar puts an arm around his shoulder.

“Whoa-”

“Linhardt! Meet my friends!” Caspar exclaims, pulling him closer to the group. “I’ve known them for a few years, and we always hang out together at parties!” 

Linhardt finds himself standing in front of three individuals; they all look at him with smiles on their faces and the first one holds out his hand. 

“I’m Ashe!” The freckled, grey-haired man says first. “Happy to meet you!”

Before Linhardt can even say hi back, another person jumps from behind Ashe - a pink-haired woman with her hair hung up in two high pigtails. “You’re Caspar’s friend? I looooove your hair. I’m Hilda by the way!” 

Next to them, another woman; this one seems to look at Linhardt curiously for a moment, her head tilting slightly. Her wavy brown hair is gathered in front of her shoulders, and her make-up is done beautifully, like she’s spent at least an hour on it. It takes some time for her to speak; and the way she scrutinizes Linhardt certainly doesn’t help him in feeling any less wary… 

“I’m Dorothea,” she finally says, a smile spreading across her face as she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Caspar told us so much about you all these years. We were wondering when you would show up!”

… Obviously, there’s no way Caspar would’ve said anything about him before they even  _ met _ . Either she’s mistaking him for someone else that Caspar actually did mention,  _ or  _ she’s pretending that Caspar has never been able to shut up about him to make Linhardt feel good about himself. Either way, he has to laugh internally. 

Caspar, who doesn’t look like he was born a good liar, seems confused by her words too. Way to look even less credible. “Yeah! Yeah I did!” He blurts out, his arm leaving the vampire’s shoulders. Linhardt somewhat misses that comforting weight already.

So far, no one seems to act like they want to lunge at Linhardt to capture him, which is already a relief. While Linhardt spends a few minutes watching the other guests, he tries to remember every face, every voice, just in case. It at least helps in distracting him from his hunger. 

As the conversation carries on, two more people approach. One of them is a blue haired woman who seems like she’s just gotten out of the pool, and her arm is linked with a tall, blonde man’s own; what Linhardt finds the most strange about him is the eyepatch. 

“Oh! And meet the professor, too,” Caspar says, greeting the two people. “She’s my coworker.”

“You must be Linhardt,” the woman says. “My name is actually Byleth, but everyone calls me professor for some reason. And this is my husband, Dimitri.” 

Now that Linhardt gets a good look at him and sees his smile, his loving gaze whenever he looks at the professor, he realizes that this man is probably harmless enough, too. 

Linhardt gets to meet everyone else one by one, and he finally relaxes when he sees that the only malicious thing these people seem capable of is throwing each other into the pool. As for himself, he’s thankful that Caspar has given him spare swim trunks, but he’s not confident that he won’t fall asleep in the water, so he mostly stays on the side. 

Caspar seems to be having fun racing his friends, laughing loudly and pretending to drown them whenever they lose. Linhardt simply watches the scene while sitting near one of the round tables, stuffing his face with the cherry tomatoes in the bowl next to him - 

“Hi again, Lin. Can I call you Lin?” 

Linhardt whips his head around and finds Dorothea sitting in front of him. He quickly swallows what he’s eating before straightening himself. “If that’s easier for you, then yes,” he answers.

“I just think it’s a cute nickname for you,” she says with a light smile. “So… you’re here to visit Caspar, right? How long has it been since you two saw each other?” 

Oh, no. He had a feeling that out of all these people,  _ someone _ would be curious. He just didn’t imagine that he’d be on his own the moment he would need to answer questions. 

“It’s been about fifteen years,” he says, trying to keep his voice confident. “We stayed in touch, but we live so far away from each other that we can’t really meet up that often.” 

“Oh?” Dorothea’s eyes light up. “Where are you from, then?”

Linhardt winces internally. He despises lying, he doesn’t believe he’s good at it at all. But it’s to protect himself. He has no choice. 

“Dagda,” he says. 

“Oh, interesting!” Dorothea says with a small laugh. “Dagda really _ is _ far away. My girlfriend is actually from Brigid, which isn’t so far from Dagda when you think about it. So did you come all the way here just to see him?”

Linhardt nods. 

“That is  _ adorable _ ,” Dorothea says, “well, I’m glad you two got to meet again after so long! Do you know how long you’re staying?”

That’s a difficult question, one not even Linhardt knows the answer to. “Probably a few weeks. We’re trying to make up for all the time we lost, after all.” 

“Aw, I’m very happy for you both!” Dorothea muses, and she almost looks like she was told that Caspar and Linhardt are going to get  _ married _ . Being so enthusiastic about someone else’s friendship seems a little weird, but Linhardt isn’t stupid. She probably has other ideas in mind. 

He’s rather proud of himself for keeping up with the conversation without faltering, though. “Well, I’m going to swim a little more.” Dorothea gets up from her seat, waving at him. “You should try it too, Lin. The water’s really nice!”

Linhardt nods again, but truly, he doesn’t plan on getting in the pool at all. He thought that eating some of the food here would allow him to spend the evening without that feeling of hunger, but there’s only so much cherry tomatoes and chips can do. The pain creeps back into his head, and he tries to forget, to block out the thought of how  _ delicious  _ any blood would taste on his tongue right now. 

When he looks at his reflection in the glass wall, he realizes that his eyes are glowing red. 

Caspar does intend to spend some quality time with his friends, but that doesn’t mean he can allow himself to leave Linhardt unattended for too long. He can’t really predict what’ll happen, even  _ here,  _ so he tries to watch out for him at all times. 

But in a moment of distraction, an awful feeling creeps against his back. When he gets his head out of the water, he realizes that Linhardt is gone from his seat. 

Oh,  _ no _ .

Looking too panicked might arise suspicion, so as he dries himself up, he looks everywhere inside Ferdinand’s home, in case Linhardt actually went to get some sleep. But he’s nowhere to be found. He calls out his name several times, but is only met with silence. As he opens the front door to look on the other side of the house, a horrifying scream resounds into the night. 

Caspar hurriedly rushes back inside, then changes into some dry clothes before finding Ferdinand. “Hey, I gotta go!” He shouts, to Ferdinand’s confusion. “Linhardt’s not feeling well, he’s already outside. Thanks for inviting us, and I’m sorry we have to leave so abruptly!” 

He doesn’t even give Ferdinand enough time to answer before grabbing his belongings and darting out of the house. The screaming has long since stopped, but Caspar  _ knows  _ that something isn’t right. He looks around the street for some time, until soon, he finds an unlit alley with two shadows inside.

As he comes closer, he finally sees it; Linhardt withdrawing his teeth from some collapsed stranger’s neck, breathing in relief. His crimson eyes shine a dreadful light towards Caspar as he notices his arrival, and something glows at the tip of his fingers before he gets up again. Caspar can’t see much, but it looks like Linhardt is licking at his lips. 

“Oh, I hate this feeling, I hate it…” Linhardt murmurs as he puts a hand to his forehead. “Caspar, I’m a little dizzy…” 

Holy fuck. What the hell. Caspar almost can’t comprehend what just happened, but it should be no surprise to him that the  _ vampire _ he houses would at some point need to  _ drink blood _ , right? Yet, he can feel a cold sweat overcoming him as Linhardt falls into his arms. 

“Linhardt! Hey!” Caspar shouts, but he only answers with a pained groan. “Okay, don’t move anymore, I’m getting you out of here!” 

There’s no way he can allow anyone to find them standing next to an unmoving body. He has no idea if the stranger on the ground is dead, but there’s no time to think about it. He quickly pulls Linhardt up against his back, carrying him outside of the neighborhood.

From here on, he knows he has to rush home by foot, no matter what. He does so while trying to avoid the busiest streets, moving past the people he crosses path with without trying to get their help. He thanks the Goddess that his stamina is enough to keep him running for this long, but he can’t say he isn’t exhausted by the time he arrives back home. 

“Caspar…” Linhardt breathes weakly into his ear, making the other man shiver as he tries desperately to lock his door. The weight on his back is starting to truly hurt him, so as soon as he can, he sits Linhardt down onto the bed. 

Caspar throws himself onto it as well, catching his breath, panting loudly after the efforts. “We’ll be lucky if no one finds us out,” he manages to say between sharp gulps of air. “What the hell, Linhardt! You should’ve told me you needed to drink blood!” 

Linhardt seems completely out of it, his head swaying slightly. “I wonder what you would have done about it,” he says with a discreet smile, his shoulders shaking with a light  _ laugh _ . 

“It’s not funny!” Caspar tries to keep his shouting quiet enough so that his neighbors won’t hear. “Ugh, what are we gonna do now?! There’s a dead guy in the streets because of us!” 

Caspar finally sits up, facing Linhardt who’s ruffling a hand through his hair. “He’s not dead, I only took a little bit of it,” Linhardt drawls, then looks back to Caspar. “Although, I think he may have had… too much to drink…” 

Oh, great. Now Linhardt is  _ drunk _ . Caspar believes for a moment that all the efforts they’ve put into not getting caught was all for nothing, but he can’t panic now. “Come here. Show me your fangs!” 

When he realizes that Linhardt isn’t going to move, Caspar shifts closer to him. Confused, Linhardt refuses to open his mouth; so Caspar grabs at his face, his thumb stretching out the corner of his lips to look at his sharp canines. There doesn’t seem to be any blood left on them, thankfully… 

“Okay, we really need to be careful from now on-”

As Caspar utters the words, he feels Linhardt’s lips close around his finger. 

It takes some time for Caspar to register what’s going on, but he feels his soul almost escaping his body as is eyes land on the sight before him. Linhardt has Caspar’s thumb in his mouth, and for an instant Caspar could think that he’s going to bite it off, but no - instead, Linhardt  _ licks _ around it. 

And Caspar is completely dumbstruck, face so hot that he could get dizzy too. The warmth of Linhardt’s tongue playing with his finger causes him to stop breathing. 

Linhardt continues mindlessly for a few seconds, until he finally opens his mouth, and a quiet  _ moan _ escapes him. 

“Nope, nope, nope-!!” Caspar is the one to pull back completely, pushing Linhardt around so that he lies down on the bed. “You’re plastered! Time to go to sleep!” 

Linhardt laughs softly, although he doesn’t object to what Caspar says, and stays down. Caspar is the one to pull the covers over him, getting away as soon as he can. 

He quickly changes, then throws himself on the couch - he’s  _ definitely  _ sleeping here tonight. Whatever. It’s better if Linhardt has the whole bed for him if he wants a good night’s sleep anyway, but damn -

What the  _ hell  _ was that?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it B))))) 
> 
> There wasnt supposed to be anything like scary monsters in this fic, i was going to make it super light-hearted, but alas im dramatic 
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons !


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar leans against the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Wait… you're a vampire, and you can't stand seeing blood? Is that why you looked so panicked when you had this cut on your hand?" 
> 
> Linhardt nods slowly as he looks down at his own hand - Caspar now notices that there isn’t even a scar left where he was cut. "As silly as it may sound, I’m still not used to it. But my nature prevents me from staying away from such sights - after all, there’s not much I can do about the fact that I like the taste of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays yall!! Here's an update!! 
> 
> cw: blood/injury, body horror

_ I'm sorry we left so soon yesterday<< _

_ Thank you for inviting us tho, next time it'll definitely go way better than this<< _

_ >>That is alright, Caspar. How is Linhardt doing?  _

_ He's just a little sick, he’ll be fine<< _

When Caspar gets up, he realizes that sleeping on the couch wasn’t such a great idea. He's hurting everywhere, shivering from the lack of blanket, and his hair is a complete mess. 

After texting Ferdinand, the events from last night slowly come back to him. Right, Linhardt had taken some drunk guy's blood and had felt the effect of the alcohol as well, and then... when Caspar took him home, something  _ weird _ happened. 

As he sits up on the couch, he looks around a bit; and when he turns back, he finds Linhardt standing in the doorway, seeming like he'd also just woken up. 

"Ah, you're awake," Caspar mumbles awkwardly, feeling a little strange when he looks at his lips. "You alright?" 

"Caspar, about last night…" Linhardt begins, avoiding his question. "I didn't do anything strange, did I?" 

_ Oh yes you did,  _ Caspar thinks to himself as he remembers him licking at his thumb. But bringing that up will only serve to make things even  _ more  _ awkward. If Linhardt doesn’t remember, it’s probably better that way. "You mean aside from drinking blood? Haha, no, nothing..."

"Hm, I do remember drinking blood…" Linhardt says as he puts a finger to his chin. "To tell you the truth, I had been craving it for some time, but I didn't want to hurt you or any of your friends, which is why I ran away to find someone else. But I could tell you were upset, so I apologize."

"No, no, don't apologize," Caspar waves his hands in dismissal as he stands up. "It was my fault, I should’ve asked you what you needed! I don't know why I assumed that it wouldn't have to come to this… I mean, you're a vampire. I guess you can't survive without drinking blood."

"Yes, that would be right," Linhardt answers with a nod, and Caspar notices that he’s never seen him so  _ awake _ . Perhaps it's the lack of blood that made him so tired all the time. "Although, I wish it weren't a necessity,” he continues with a bitter sigh. “I despise the sight of blood. And I despise having to hurt people for it, even if it's only for a short amount of time."

Caspar leans against the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Wait… you're a  _ vampire _ , and you can't stand seeing blood? Is that why you looked so panicked when you had this cut on your hand?" 

Linhardt nods slowly as he looks down at his own hand - Caspar now notices that there isn’t even a scar left where he was cut. "As silly as it may sound, I’m still not used to it. But my nature prevents me from staying away from such sights - after all, there’s not much I can do about the fact that I like the taste of it.”

There’s a brief flash of memories flying in front of Caspar’s mind, of Linhardt pulling away from that stranger's neck, of his tongue swiping at his bottom lip to lick up the droplet of blood that remained. He tries to chase the thought away when he realizes that this is, for some reason, causing a certain warmth to mount to his head. 

"Okay… we should probably try to find a way to prevent you from attacking strangers..." Caspar mutters, although he mustn’t have been heard, as nearly  _ impossible  _ as that is, because it seems like Linhardt’s attention was already stolen by something else.

"Ah, I also wanted to tell you something," Linhardt starts again as he looks around the room. "There’s something unusual coming from the walls of your home since this morning. Do you know anything about it?”

"Huh? What do you mean?" 

Linhardt seems like he’s trying to find a way to explain it with  _ human  _ words. “A mix of light and sound surrounding us… I suppose it's hard to see with human eyes, but try to put your hand against the wall? Maybe you'll feel it."

Caspar is perplexed, but he brings his palm to the wall anyway. Indeed, there's a strange warm vibration, but he doesn’t see or hear anything. It's not something he’s ever felt in the walls before, so it’s a bit concerning. 

"What is it?" He asks, "Do you know?" 

Linhardt nods slowly, putting his hand against the wall as well and concentrating. "This is a magical barrier. It completely conceals our presence from the outside, so the Agarthan mages can't detect us anymore as long as we're here."

Caspar raises his eyebrows, impressed. "Whoa... did you do this?" 

Shaking his head, Linhardt doesn't seem like he understands much more than Caspar. “I wouldn’t be able to use such a spell on something so large. The only possibility is that someone else put a spell on your home in order to protect us. It must mean that someone in this town is aware of what's going on."

"Hm…" Caspar is definitely confused. "One of your bat friends?" 

"Maybe," Linhardt's shoulders raise in a shrug. "There's no way to know for now. In any case, it seems like it'll still be fine to leave me here on my own whenever you have to work."

Caspar grumbles slightly, only because of the fact that as an ordinary human, he’s not sure he can fully  _ trust  _ magic. "Can't say I'm any more at ease, but I guess you're right. I don't have work today anyway, so I was planning on going out to find the Agarthans’ hideout and -"

“ _ Caspar _ ,” Linhardt interrupts him with a sigh, brushing a hand through his hair. “There’s no need. The ‘bats’ from yesterday are most likely going to deal with them, so why bother? Besides, you strained yourself pretty badly yesterday after carrying me for so long, so just rest today.”

With a pout, Caspar decides that he shouldn’t argue with him on that. He’s not used to dedicating days to  _ resting _ , unlike his guest, and the more time passes, the more obsessed he becomes over the presence of these foes in his town. 

But his back and arms  _ do  _ hurt like hell. He wouldn’t be successful if he tried to do anything today, so he concedes after a few seconds of inner debating. 

"Then I guess we could just stay here and watch some movies or documentaries for a while," Caspar suggests, a smile reappearing across his features, "with snacks. I got a ton of them."

Linhardt seems to enjoy the idea greatly, but he still finds something to say. "You don't need to feel obligated to watch these things with me, you know." 

"What? I'm not feeling obligated!" Caspar exclaims, genuinely surprised that such an idea would come to Linhardt’s mind. "I just think it'd be kinda fun to spend time together, I dunno. Unless you don't want to...?" 

The other man's eyes seem to widen for a split second, before a gentle smile illuminates his features. 

"Don't be ridiculous Caspar, of course I want to," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, and Caspar watches the graceful movement without blinking once. "Yes, let’s spend some time together. I can't promise I won't take a few naps every now and then, though."

"I thought drinking that blood would've woken you up a little!" Caspar laughs. 

"Oh, you're mistaken. No matter how much blood I drink, one thing that will always remain true is that I  _ love  _ sleeping."

*

The next few days that pass are relatively calm; Caspar had returned to work after the weekend, leaving Linhardt to rest at home in the meantime. He had decided to avoid subway trains for now, so certain trips became challenging, but he doesn’t want to see another one of these demonic beasts. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen a single one since last time, nor has he seen any Agarthan mages lurking anywhere around. 

With the protective barrier still hovering around the walls of his apartment, he’s grown more reassured, although he’s still confused as to who could have done such a thing. He’s grateful, but it does bother him if he can’t find the person he has to thank. 

He’ll learn about it in time, he supposes. It’s not like he can ask around anyway. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have many classes to teach that day, which means he can go do some grocery shopping before going home. Having a guest at home means he has to buy more food than he usually does, but so far, it’s not really a problem, financially speaking. He at least has the comfort of a decent salary. 

As he heads to the store, he decides that it wouldn’t hurt to stop for some coffee first. He quickly enters the cafe, waiting for his turn to order; and once he’s in possession of his warm cup of coffee, he crosses paths with a familiar figure. 

“Hi, Caspar!” Ashe greets him, carrying a rather large case onto his back, and a cup of coffee as well. “How are you? Out for some coffee?” 

Caspar smiles upon meeting his friend, who he had to abandon at the pool at Ferdinand’s party. He still feels a little guilty about that. “I just got done with work actually! What about you? Back from archery practice?”

“Yes, it’s getting a bit tough,” Ashe answers sheepishly, “we should go sit down!”

When the two are seated at the nearest table, Ashe lets go of the case on his back - it most likely contains his bow. These things are much heavier than they appear. He slowly lowers it on the floor with a relieved sigh. “My arms hurt a bit… Say, doesn’t the archery teacher also work at your high school?” 

“You mean Claude?” Caspar asks. “Yeah, he’s a geography teacher there.”

“Could you tell him to go easy on me next time? I feel like I might collapse, to be honest…” Ashe wipes at his brow with the back of his wrist. “Anyway, it’s good to see you. You’ve been a bit quiet since Ferdinand’s party, so I was wondering if everything was alright.” 

Quiet?  _ Him?  _ It’s so out of character that Caspar himself can’t believe it. Maybe him trying to be discreet about everything to not get Linhardt caught is causing him to become like this with his friends too… he definitely has to be careful about that. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Linhardt’s still at home, so I’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” Caspar explains clumsily. “But that doesn’t mean you guys aren’t my friends anymore!” 

“Haha, I don’t doubt it,” Ashe says, bringing his cup of coffee to his lips and taking a sip. “You’re still coming to Dorothea’s opera show in two days though, right?”

A silence passes as Caspar suddenly remembers, then he brings his hands to his head. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot…”

“I didn’t!” Caspar exclaims as he straightens himself. “Yeah, I’ll definitely be there! Why would I ever forget about Dorothea’s show, especially when she’s got the leading role! Haha!”

Ashe’s eyebrows raise as he pretends to believe him. “Maybe you should ask Dorothea for another ticket, if Linhardt wants to come. Actually…” Ashe passes his hand through his hair as he sighs. “She said she hoped you’d bring him along. So she’s probably going to talk to you about a second ticket...”

Caspar already knows to be nervous whenever Dorothea acts like this with whoever Caspar is hanging out the most at any point in time; as his friend, she’d been trying to match-make him with anyone, because apparently, it’s  _ fun _ . Her wanting Caspar to bring Linhardt along obviously means that she’s trying to do the same thing here.

“Yeah…” Caspar grumbles slightly. “I could probably convince him to come.” 

Ashe suddenly pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Oh, sorry. Dedue just texted me to remind me that we have band practice.” He quickly finishes his coffee before responding to the text with a bright smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright, see ya,” Caspar answers, finishing his coffee as well - he still has some grocery shopping to do after all. When they both go into their respective directions, Caspar swings his bag over his shoulder, this time heading to the store. 

But as he continues his path, he sees a strange shadow dragging itself across the wall. Caspar stops in his tracks, but as his gaze follows the silhouette, he finds a narrow alley almost hidden by some trash bins. 

The sudden silence in the area is somewhat suspicious. It's like not even the people walking past him are making any noise, and he  _ knows  _ for a fact that there's nothing wrong with his ears. Carefully, he steps into the alley, and the air instantly feels  _ heavier.  _

A few muffled voices pass through the silence, and Caspar tries to listen. 

_ "How hard can this be? He's definitely somewhere in Garreg Mach, so why can't you find him?"  _

_ "Sir, he's clearly found one or several allies since the last time we saw him. One of our demonic beasts was completely torn to shreds!"  _

_ "It doesn't matter. As long as we're here, he can't leave this town; it's only a matter of time. And when we find him, we'll take his allies too. We'll start extracting his blood at the same time as we feed the others to our beasts." _

Caspar's face goes pale as he hears the gruesome words. There's no mistaking it - they're talking about Linhardt. These people around the corner are the ones looking for him to conduct their horrifying experiments. 

He doesn't think about what he should do. He rushes towards the source of the noise, then encounters a small group of five black-robed individuals with hoods and strange, pointed masks covering their faces. They all notice Caspar arriving, and while it's impossible to see their expressions, Caspar can tell that they're surprised. Good. Taking them by surprise may not be what he considers a fair fight, but nothing needs to be fair when it comes to eradicating the ones trying to harm Linhardt. 

The mages, without making a sound, attempt to escape. But there's no way in hell Caspar can let them - he chases them down for only a few seconds before he manages to grab at one of the mages, turning their figure around so he can land a fierce punch right in their face. 

The mage spits blood into their mask, falling against the ground. The other four have stopped moving; it seems like they're trying to help their comrade, but Caspar wastes no time pulling their mask off their face. 

The mage on the ground wails and shouts in horror as the sunlight hits their face; Caspar can't get a single good look at it before it melts down, their skin sizzling and bubbling. The sight almost makes Caspar sick; he breaks into a cold sweat before he realizes that the other mages are trying to escape. He pulls himself together, leaving behind the burning mage to chase another down. After catching another one by the arm, he knocks them down with a swift kick to the stomach. 

"You're dead! You're all fucking dead!" He shouts, throwing himself to the mage to take their mask off as well - but a strong gust of wind passes through him, so strong that it's even  _ sharp _ . Before he knows it, four cuts appear across his arms, and his blood spills onto the pavement. 

Caspar grits his teeth through the pain; the blood overflows from his wounds, down his arms, then drips in crimson pearls at his fingertips. The mage he threw on the ground manages to stand up and back away, and another makes a certain hand movement that causes Caspar’s bleeding to stop suddenly.

“What are you doing?!” The fourth mage says, “human or not, he saw too much! We can’t allow him to live!” 

The blood flows again, and Caspar covers one of his arms with his palm, although it doesn’t seem to help much. There’s still blood spilling between his fingers. 

Running away is out of the question; it would lead the mages to Linhardt. He just has to fight back. He’s always been able to, hasn’t he? He can do it, he can… 

Before he can move again, the second mage snaps their fingers, and an intense dizziness overcomes Caspar. 

It’s a sensation unlike anything he’s ever felt before; his head feels heavy and hot,  _ too hot _ , and all his senses are blocked out. Unable to see and hear, he’s incapacitated for long enough to allow the second mage to hook their arms under Caspar’s own, blocking his movements as they present him to the other three. 

When Caspar regains his senses, the mage in front of him seems to prepare something. A ball of purple light glows between his hands, and it grows bigger with every second. The intense luminosity burns into his mind, and Caspar can’t move anymore. 

He wants to kick and yell, to drag them all across the ground, but he’s powerless. Four against one is something he’s experienced before, but dark mages are different. He should’ve listened to Linhardt. He shouldn’t have gone after them so suddenly. 

But at the very least, they still don’t know that Caspar is the one hiding him. He could almost let out a satisfied laugh. 

But before he does so, a horrifying scream shoots through his ears. 

He’s suddenly let go of, dropped onto the ground like he’s nothing. But Caspar scrambles back up as soon as he notices the mage behind him writhing, their body undergoing a sickening distortion, as if all their bones were breaking at once. 

“Help! Help!” They scream, but their comrades watch the scene, trembling. The mage is lifted up for a split second before they’re thrown down once again, crashing into the pavement with the sickening sound of bones tearing through flesh. 

Caspar doesn’t take long to raise his gaze, and further away into the alley, Linhardt stands with a hand raised, a sigil drawn in light hovering before him. 

“Linhardt!” Caspar calls out to him before his body reminds him of the intense pain in his arms. All the mages turn to the vampire, and this time, there’s no hesitation in their movements. They rush to Linhardt with the intent to capture him, but are stopped with a flurry of arrows plunging into their backs. 

This time, it’s a certain archer who saves them; Ashe is rushing through the alley with his bow in hand, joining his friend with panicked breathing. 

Three against three, now it’s even. Linhardt’s expression to it all is unreadable, but he begins to move his hands again, casting spells to destroy the rest of the mages. Now that their enemies are aware of who they’re fighting against, their reactions are quicker, more efficient. Caspar ends up biting down at the inside of his cheek to forget the pain in his arms, balling his hands into fists to catch them off-guard. 

With arrows sticking out of their sides and backs, it’s difficult for the mages to follow. As Caspar, Linhardt and Ashe combine their efforts to fight them off, they manage to bring them all down one by one, spreading blood across the ground. Once they’re unable to stand back up, Linhardt makes sure to remove their masks, allowing the sunlight to feed on their flesh as he tries to look away all the while. 

The last one melts down with a desperate cry, and hearing so much of it has Caspar growing uneasy. By now, all three of them have cuts and bruises across their bodies, but they’re all  _ alive _ . Caspar can’t quite describe the relief he feels upon seeing Linhardt standing in front of him, safe and sound. 

“How did you  _ even  _ get yourself into this situation?” Ashe asks, and Caspar is startled out of his thoughts. “What were these things? Monsters?” 

Caspar breathes in slowly, covering one of his wounds again. “I- I don’t know,” he stutters, lying to Ashe completely and turning back to Linhardt to make sure that he’s not fainting from the sight of blood. He does seem troubled, but he approaches Caspar with a worried gaze, holding onto his shoulders. 

“Caspar, does it hurt?” He asks, his fingers trembling slightly. 

Of course it hurts. Even just moving his arms feels like a million needles are pricking into them. “I’m fine! Really!” Caspar says, although he’s not sure he’s sounding as convincing as he wants to. 

“We’re all injured, we need to go someplace safe to get patched up,” Ashe utters, his bleeding hands putting his bow back into its case. “Actually, we should probably go to the hospital. Your cuts look pretty bad, Caspar…”

“Not the hospital.” Linhardt interrupts him with a pained groan. “Caspar’s home will be fine. Trust me.” 

Of course, Caspar prefers to go home and take care of things himself rather than heading to a hospital where they’ll ask a million questions about what happened and  _ incriminate  _ them. These Agarthan mages are dead after all, it’s better if they flee immediately. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t live too far from here. Ashe looks puzzled, but he still follows along as Caspar starts rushing out of the alley. 

*

Once the three of them arrive at Caspar’s home, they sit down around the table to catch their breath first. The bleeding from Caspar’s cuts has mostly stopped, but it still burns, and he most likely needs stitches… 

“Anyone knows how to do stitches?” Caspar asks with something akin to a laugh, although doing so has the pain spiking in his head. “Ow…”

“Stay still,” Linhardt suddenly says as he drags his chair closer to sit right in front of Caspar. When he’s close enough, his hands slowly lift up to hover above the deep cuts, and a warm light glows from his palms. 

At first, Caspar isn’t sure he understands what’s going on. But the pain that was plaguing him ebbs after only a few seconds, and a strange pulling sensation follows. 

Linhardt, who seems to be in deep concentration, doesn’t tear his gaze away from his wound, as disgusting as it must look for him. “What are you doing…?” Caspar asks hesitantly. 

“I’m healing you.” Linhardt focuses a bright energy onto him, and Caspar realizes that his wounds are indeed closing slowly, as if they’d never been there in the first place. 

“Wait, what?” Caspar says, and just as he isn’t supposed to, he  _ moves _ . “Hold on, you need to heal yourself first! Your wrists are covered in burns! What even caused that…?”

“Caspar!” Linhardt exclaims, his eyes burning with an ire that the other man had never seen on him before. It’s enough for Caspar to sit back down. “I said,  _ don’t move _ .” 

Ashe watches the scene, eyes as wide as a bug’s. It doesn’t seem like he’s seen his share of weird things, at least not as much as Caspar did lately. Caspar simply nods in response, then sheepishly turns to his friend; “Hey Ashe, can you get the first aid kit from the bathroom? It’s in the top drawer.”

“Uh, yeah!” Ashe answers before getting up and promptly leaving the room. 

It leaves the other two in an awkward silence, and while Caspar had wanted to play hero and help Linhardt with his wounds first, he realizes that it’s not his place. He was the one who didn’t listen. He was the one who tried to challenge some foes he knew absolutely nothing of. 

Unsure whether or not his words would distract Linhardt from his task, Caspar decides not to say anything for now. He simply watches Linhardt’s expression slowly relaxing as the blood on Caspar’s arm disappears, then as soon as he’s done with this arm, he turns Caspar around to take care of the other. 

Ashe comes back with the first aid kit, sitting back down as he opens it up. “Ashe, don’t trouble yourself with it,” Linhardt speaks up through the silence. “I’ll heal you too in just a moment.” 

“Um… are you sure this is alright…” 

Linhardt doesn’t answer, but his stare insists. Ashe ends up leaving the first aid kit to rest on the table. 

“Hey Linhardt, sorry to ask this but…” Caspar hesitates for an instant. “Is there any chance you can’t actually heal your own wounds?” 

The feeling of warmth stops as Linhardt finishes healing his other arm. It all feels fine now, and he didn’t even need stitches - Caspar can’t help but smile as he passes his fingers across the temporary scars. 

“Using any sort of healing spell on myself is impossible, unfortunately,” Linhardt says as he shakes his head, already moving to take care of Ashe’s scuffed palms. “But don’t worry about me. I regenerate quickly.”

Through the conversation, Caspar glances at Ashe’s expression which clearly says  _ I have no idea what’s going on right now please explain _ . 

But it’s not like Caspar can say anything more. If Ashe hasn’t figured it out, then Linhardt being a vampire must stay a secret. Him using healing magic shouldn’t reveal too much about his true nature though, right…?

Once Linhardt is completely done and that Ashe's palms are healed, he pulls back, leaning back into his chair and breathing out slowly. "Sorry. I… really don’t like having to see this much blood."

"Hey Linhardt, we should at least put some balm on your burns," Caspar says as he rummages through the first aid kit. "It'll probably hurt a little less like this, right?" 

"Hm, I suppose you're right," Linhardt answers with a nod, looking down onto his wrists. They're encircled by violent burns, something that will probably leave scars. "Hand it to me, please."

"Nope, I'm doing it for you," Caspar answers, and this time, he's the one dragging his chair closer to the other. "Hold out your hands."

Linhardt seems confused for a moment, but he doesn't protest. He lays his arms across the table, and Caspar applies some of the balm on his burned skin. Linhardt winces at the searing hot sensation, his hands flinching slightly. "Gentle, Caspar."

"Oh, sorry…"

On the side, Ashe averts his eyes, as if he were thinking about something. He looks even more lost than he was moments ago when it was just about magic and monsters. As Caspar gently rubs his fingers across Linhardt's wrists, Ashe's confusion seems to transform into discreet amusement. 

Anyway. 

"Those burns look really strange…" Caspar muses as he looks at their shape. "I don't think they inflicted this on you - it was a result from your own magic, right?" 

To this, Linhardt's expression changes. He appears surprised, somewhat irritated even - did Caspar said something wrong? 

"One of my spells does that." Linhardt's answer is blunt, and puts an end to the conversation that Caspar had tried to start. He feels a little strange, usually Linhardt doesn't mind rambling whenever Caspar asks questions. Perhaps it's only because Ashe's here too. 

Just as he's about to give up on saying anything else, Caspar hears Linhardt speaking up again, out of nowhere. 

"Oh, I just remembered. I  _ did  _ do something else that was strange last night." 

Caspar's eyes snap wide open. "Uh…"

"I licked your finger, right?" 

"UH…"

The second 'uh' was uttered by none other than Ashe, who's caught so off-guard by this statement that he can't help but react.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Caspar says, completely red-faced. He quickly finishes applying the balm on Linhardt's wrists before standing up to go wash his hands. 

"Guys, I think I gotta go," Ashe says, also standing up and picking up his bow case. "Band practice and all. Thank you for healing me, Linhardt! See you later!" 

Caspar feels his soul leaving his body slowly when Ashe closes the door behind himself as he leaves. Only five seconds after, Caspar's phone vibrates. A text from  _ Ashe _ . 

_ >>CASPAR????? _

Ignoring this message completely, Caspar puts his phone back into his pocket. He then looks towards Linhardt, who's staring at him with an innocent look on his face. 

"Why did you have to say that  _ now _ …" Caspar whispers in fear that Ashe might still be listening through the door. His face is so hot it could probably melt. 

"Ashe didn’t need to know that I was using black magic to fight the mages; by pointing out the burns on my wrists, you’ve revealed that I was doing exactly that. So, I revealed something to embarrass you," Linhardt explains with a shrug. "Consider us even." 

"Ugh, after everything that happened, I didn’t know  _ black magic  _ was the main issue,” Caspar answer, absolutely flustered, just like Linhardt meant for him to be. "I was just worrying about you, y'know… you really hurt yourself while saving me. It's my fault."

Linhardt gets up from his seat, then takes a few steps forward to stand right in front of him. He's slightly taller than Caspar is, and in this very moment, it's  _ slightly  _ intimidating. 

"You attacked the mages to defend me, even if I wasn't here," Linhardt starts, "don't say anything about it being your fault. Sure, it was foolish to attack a band of them on your own, and you could have died…"

"Haha, yeah…"

"...But you did it for me. I would spend some time scolding you, but not only would that be exhausting, it would be insincere."

Linhardt's expression grows a little gloomy, and Caspar feels something in his heart warming up. 

"I'm grateful that you value me enough to endanger yourself for my sake, Caspar, but…" Linhardt's gaze falls to the floor. "Please, don't do it again. Not alone, at least."

Right. As upset as he is, he can't act recklessly anymore. At the very least, he's relieved that these five particular dark mages aren’t going to be bothering them. But he assumes that there are many more hiding here and there. 

"Okay, I understand," he says with a smile, crossing his arms. "Well, all this just kinda made me forget about getting groceries. So we don't really have anything to eat for tonight."

Linhardt looks somewhat disappointed, although he tries not to show it too much. Caspar still finds it kind of cute. 

"Let's order pizza?" Caspar says, taking out his phone again. 

"Yes, let's do that," Linhardt answers with an enthusiastic nod. 

And when Caspar unlocks his phone, he sees a new text from Ashe. 

_ >>I guess Dorothea was right after all  _

_ What do you mean<< _

_ >>Oh you know _

_ No i dont??<< _

_ >>haha okay _

_ >>anyway, are you going to explain to me what happened out there? Not the finger licking thing, the monster thing?  _

Caspar tries to grumble quietly enough for Linhardt to not ask questions about what he just saw on his phone. 

_ I’ll explain another time, promise<< _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for ur support guys! cant wait to get to the next chapter its a good one 8)))


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar's eyes are still bleary as he looks at his surroundings; he’s still in his room, and everything is as ‘normal’ as it’s been for a few days now. With Linhardt sleeping peacefully next to him, comfortably buried into the blanket. It seems like he did go to bed as soon as he was done absorbing all that knowledge. 
> 
> … Except this time, Linhardt lies much closer to him than he ever has. There’s only a few inches of space between them - at least, without counting Linhardt’s hand that’s gently resting on Caspar’s chest. 
> 
> Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and happy new year! Here's a new chapter!! This one gets slightly spicy at the end again lmfaoo hope u like it
> 
> cw: blood/injury

Caspar had finally thought of talking to Linhardt about Dorothea’s show the _day_ before it takes place. Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t taken a lot of effort for Caspar to convince him; Linhardt has been more willing to follow him around recently, as sleepy as he is. He even went grocery shopping with him in the morning. 

So of course, Dorothea had gladly given him an extra ticket. She’d done so with a wink, and Caspar had done his best to ignore it, and whatever meaning it could possibly have. 

He’s worked hard today, so he’s glad to be home, especially when Linhardt is for once, wide awake at this hour. It seems like he was just studying something; and as soon as Caspar steps foot inside his home, his attention is captured by Linhardt who cannot help but tell him about the amazing things he’s learned about humans today. He speaks like he’s suddenly gotten all the energy in the world, and while Caspar is surprised, he can’t help but keep his eyes on him through it. Seeing him this excited about something is rare, so he can’t help but smile - even if in truth he doesn’t feel like he knows _nearly_ as much as the other man does. 

“... and so I’ve found out that the legendary weapon Thunderbrand is displayed in the Garreg Mach museum,” Linhardt rambles on, “I’d really like to go there and try to wield it and see for myself -”

“Wow, Linhardt - this is exactly what we’re _not_ gonna do,” Caspar shakes his head, raising his hand as if to stop Linhardt from standing up and running away. “They, uh - probably went through a ton of trouble to get that weapon, right? We can’t just barge in and take it, it’s not right!” 

With a sigh, Linhardt’s enthusiasm suddenly ebbs. “I’m not going to _take_ it. I just need to hold it for a minute, and see how it feels. Oh, I can probably learn something by even just brushing it with a finger…” 

“I should probably explain to you how museums _work_ before we even get close to one…”

The two end up chatting for a lot longer than they usually do, just lying around on the couch while playing stupid TV shows as a background noise. Caspar finds that it’s somewhat easier to stay idle when Linhardt encourages him to. 

After a relaxing evening, however, Caspar is the _first_ to get tired, as unbelievable as it is. He’s nearly dozing off in front of the television in the later hours - so when he gathers enough strength to get up, he does so to avoid falling asleep on the couch again.

“I’m going to bed,” Caspar mumbles as he gets up from his seat. For the past hour, Linhardt has had his eyes locked onto the laptop for more research again, and he only tears his gaze away from it to look back at Caspar. 

“Goodnight,” Linhardt says with a smile, his voice soft and almost playful. But he quickly goes back to focusing his stare on the screen.

“You’re not tired yet?” Caspar asks, leaning against the doorframe. “Weird.”

Linhardt responds without looking away from the video he’s watching. “I am a little. But somehow this is a lot more interesting than sleep for now. I’ll join you when I’m finished studying the subject.”

“Alright,” Caspar nods along, “goodnight, then!”

That night, Caspar’s sleep is troubled by all kinds of things. The cold, the heat, the reduced space in his bed, the sensation of being smothered... something causes him to stir awake in the middle of the night, and he rolls his head to the side. His eyes are still bleary as he looks at his surroundings; he’s still in his room, and everything is as ‘normal’ as it’s been for a few days now. With Linhardt sleeping peacefully next to him, comfortably buried into the blanket. It seems like he _did_ go to bed as soon as he was done absorbing all that knowledge. 

… Except this time, Linhardt lies much closer to him than he ever has. There’s only a few inches of space between them - at least, without counting Linhardt’s hand that’s gently resting on Caspar’s chest. 

Oh. 

Caspar’s breath hitches in his throat, and the words die on his tongue. Is Linhardt really asleep? Did he misplace his hand on accident…? 

Caspar tries to breathe normally again to pretend that he’s still peacefully asleep, and he shuts his eyes. Now, Linhardt’s hand that was resting on Caspar chests just seconds ago is slowly sliding up, until it caresses the side of his throat. 

No, _Linhardt’s definitely awake_. 

He’s actually shifting closer, cold hand gently feeling for his throat, and Caspar can sense him breathing down the base of his neck. He’d learned that Linhardt’s breathing was a bit different from a human’s; usually, it’s quiet and subtle, like he hardly needs it. But it’s much heavier this time. There’s something impatient about it, perhaps even hungry...

Oh _fuck_. 

Caspar can’t see his face, but he can feel him closing in. Linhardt’s mouth is so close to his neck, his breath so warm on his skin. 

Caspar knows exactly what he’s trying to do, but… he can’t stop him. For some reason, _he doesn’t want to._

Linhardt parts his lips, and Caspar can feel it - the sharp touch of a fang on his skin, just brushing against it ever so slightly. 

But that’s all he does. 

He instantly pulls away, mouth still wide open as if he were trying to convince himself to just bite already. 

It’s what Caspar wants to tell him. Perhaps it’s a sort of bizarre sleep paralysis, but in this moment, he believes that Linhardt _should_ do it, he _wants_ him to do it. But Caspar keeps pretending to be asleep, as if all his courage fell apart.

After Linhardt hesitates for a few seconds, he lets go, rolling into the bed to face the wall instead with a resigned sigh. 

...

Caspar lies wide awake for at least a full half hour more. The feeling of Linhardt’s lips so close to him lingers, and the shivers come back whenever he thinks about it. But it seems like Linhardt has fallen asleep once again after this. 

Now, Caspar realizes he has to try to do the same. He opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his life choices and everything that led to this _situation_. 

Now he’s really done it, _again_. 

He’s got an attractive vampire sleeping in his bed _and_ said vampire craving his blood.

*

The day after, when the two sit at the table after eating their lunch, Caspar has a difficult time gathering his thoughts. Too little sleep last night, he supposes. Linhardt is yawning into his hand, but at least that’s not out of the ordinary. 

“So, um…” Caspar hesitantly speaks up. “You’re still alright with going to Dorothea’s show tonight, right?”

Linhardt lifts his gaze. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t have accepted if I weren’t.” 

“Yeah, I was just making sure,” Caspar tries to laugh it off, but it only comes out sheepishly. “Are you, uh… hungry for blood, or anything like that? I don’t really want this to end like Ferdinand’s pool party did, so you should definitely tell me if something’s up.” 

Linhardt averts his eyes for a moment, and his eyelids fall shut. “I won’t lie to you, I have been feeling slightly hungry. But I’ll be fine. You can count on me to tell you if I feel strange.”

“Okay, that’s reassuring…” 

Of course he knew that Linhardt was hungry. But _slightly_ ? What he did last night looked like a reaction to desperate hunger. But it’s not like Caspar can just _bring that up_. 

He'll just have to hope that nothing goes horribly wrong tonight. 

But if he's honest with himself, he's rather pleased that he's not going alone to such an event for once. Spending time with Linhardt had certainly helped in not feeling too bored whenever he would come home from work. Dorothea may believe that there's something between them, but at least he has some company. And he doesn’t really care about her insinuations. 

To be fair, they _have_ been sleeping in the same bed ever since Linhardt got here. That's not usually what happens when Caspar has a guest, they usually sleep on the couch or something. But he had never felt like telling Linhardt to get on the couch instead. It seems almost impossible to imagine; Linhardt likes the comfort of the bed way too much, and to be honest, he looks kind of cute when he's sleeping so peacefully. 

Why is he thinking about all this all of the sudden… 

*

Later into the day, Caspar and Linhardt finally leave for the concert hall. Caspar doesn't have a car, so they have to take public transportation. However, they avoid taking the subway this time; it seems like underground places are where the demonic beasts can most easily be sent. 

They still remain on their guard no matter what, staying under the city lights and avoiding emptier streets whenever they have to walk. 

Once the two reach the concert hall, some people are still waiting at the entrance, but it seems like all of Caspar’s friends have already entered. He doesn’t know exactly who could make it or who couldn’t, but he hopes they at least kept some empty seats for them. 

As Caspar advances towards the hall, he looks upwards to the wall; Dorothea is the main focus on the giant poster, dressed all in red and with a golden crown that almost make it look like she has a pair of horns on her head. Caspar doesn’t know at all about the story they’re going to play here, but it looks… familiar, somehow. 

And as he looks up, he notices a shadow moving on top of the building, then out of sight. He could’ve seen wrong, but it looked like someone with a bow in hand. 

Ashe? 

No, that can’t be him… Why would he be up there? 

But just to make sure, Caspar decides to text him. 

_U already in? << _

_ >>yeah _

_ >>the professor kept some seats for you two, when are you coming in? _

_Probably ten minutes << _

So the shadow wasn’t him. Caspar looks up again as he comes closer to reach the door, walking so close to Linhardt that their shoulders are touching. Who knows what kind of person could be sent after them after all that happened… 

Focusing his attention on the top of the building, his other shoulder accidentally bumps into someone walking into the room as well. 

“Ah, sorry!” Caspar finally watches his step as he turns to the person he just walked into. The man is tall, dressed in all black, with skin extremely pale and hair as dark as the night that covers his right eye. With an intimidating, ice cold stare, he looks down at the two. 

“I would advise you to watch where you’re going,” he mutters, voice carrying a sort of bitterness, and Caspar is about to respond before Linhardt pushes his palm against his back to move him forward. 

“Let’s not spend too much time standing in front of strangers,” Linhardt says, and it looks like he’s stuffing something into his pocket. “This place is full of humans, but we never know what we could encounter.” 

Caspar tries to lower his voice the best he can after he hands their tickets so they can finally go find their seats into the hall. “You think some dark mages could have followed us here? What do we do if they attack?”

Linhardt looks behind himself, prompting Caspar to do the same. The man they bumped into isn’t in sight anymore; it’s as if he went in a completely different direction. “I doubt that will happen,” Linhardt whispers, “but I’ve learned that _humans_ aren’t always enthusiastic about having a vampire in their town… understandably so. You’re a bit of an exception to the rule.” 

Caspar has to pause for a moment. Sure, Linhardt has to attack people every now and then to get their blood, and it’s only normal that some people would want him out because of that. But now that Caspar knows him as a person, he wishes others considered that after all, he’s only trying to survive. Linhardt wouldn’t willingly hurt innocent people. 

“I guess so.” Caspar doesn’t think elaborating on that right now is safe enough, with all these people around them. 

Once he looks into the hall, he sees Byleth’s hand waving at him, gesturing for the two to come get their seats. 

As expected, a _lot_ of his friends are here. Everyone from Ferdinand’s pool party, the entirety of Ashe and Dimitri’s ‘Blue Lions’ band, and even _Claude_ \- he had no idea him and Dorothea even knew each other. 

“It is good to be seeing you!” Petra moves to greet them personally; of course she would be here to see her girlfriend on stage. “Caspar and Linhardt, we have made it so you two can be sitting on the side of each other. Dorothea has already had leaving because of her preparations, but she will be seeing us after the show.” 

“That’s great!” Caspar exclaims as he sits down; him and Linhardt find themselves seated between Byleth and Ashe. As Linhardt leans back into his seat, Ashe takes the opportunity to move forward a little and throw a knowing look at Caspar. 

The two take some time to relax and catch up with the others, as Linhardt makes the acquaintance of those he hasn’t met yet. In this room full of people, Caspar doesn’t believe he should worry, but he decides to keep an eye on his vampire friend during the show, just in case. He’s still hungry for blood after all, even if he doesn’t show it; Caspar had figured as much when Linhardt had almost sunk his teeth in…

But remembering this has Caspar shivering slightly, so he tries to push the image out of his mind. He still has no solution whatsoever to this problem, but it’s not like he can do anything about it now. Linhardt seems to be fine at the very least. 

After a half hour more, the show finally begins. 

Caspar had already seen a few of Dorothea’s operas before, but this one seems different, as if the story had been written especially for this piece. The decor reminds him of ancient medieval times, with the clear separation between nobles and commoners when it comes to the costumes. The characters play into a sort of academic setting where religion and knighthood seem to be the main focus. When Dorothea steps in, it’s already obvious that she plays the main character.

She plays the role of an imperial princess who plots in secret to overthrow the oppressive religious system, declaring war on the church. Then follows the tales of the many trials she endures, having to fight the people she once called friends. The story is captivating and Caspar even finds himself relating to one of the characters. As the story goes, not a single person speaks in the audience, leaving all the silence to be filled with melodies and graceful chants. 

But the feeling of someone watching him lingers into his mind… at first, Caspar hadn’t wanted to turn around to look. But he can tell there’s a pressing gaze on his back; discreetly, he allows himself to turn his head around, and surely enough, someone is watching him.

It’s the man he bumped into before. His eyes are so bright that it almost seems like they’re shining into the dark hall, and even when Caspar notices him, he doesn’t look away. At first, he could imagine that this person was most likely looking at Linhardt - after all, he’s the one who’s in hiding. But no, this man is staring at Caspar, and no one else. He doesn’t throw a single glance at the stage.

Now that he’s seen him, Caspar feels an uneasiness creeping along his spine. There’s definitely something going on in this man’s mind that guided him here not for the show, but for something completely different. If Caspar stood up to leave the room, perhaps the stranger would follow…

But no, he’d promised Linhardt he wouldn’t do something like this again. _Not alone_. 

“Linhardt, there’s someone in this room looking at us,” Caspar finally decides to speak, and Linhardt turns to him, a frown darkening his features. “The last row, seventh seat starting from the right. He doesn’t really look like an Agarthan mage, but...” 

When Caspar turns to look at the man in question again, he realizes that he’s _disappeared._

“What the hell-” Caspar whispers, and Byleth confusedly looks to them, distracted from the show. “There’s no way this is possible! Linhardt, did you see him?!”

“Shh,” Linhardt tries to quiet him down with his index finger on his lips. “I couldn’t turn around in time. But whatever you saw, it wasn’t an Agarthan. I can usually feel their presence when they’re nearby.”

“Then what was it?!” 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Byleth suddenly interrupts, and several of Caspar’s friends are now staring at the two, probably alerted by their movements. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry!” Caspar says, leaning back down against his chair. The few people around them still look at them with puzzled eyes; damn, he really made a fool of himself again…

“Let’s talk about this later,” Linhardt whispers quietly enough for only Caspar to hear. 

Being unable to do anything is frustrating to no end, but Caspar shuts up as he clenches his fists against the armrest. The show is still going on in front of their eyes, but it’s hard to focus now that he knows that a strange individual may still be somewhere in the room, watching them. Caspar can feel himself growing fidgety, but suddenly, a hand slides on top of his own. 

Linhardt’s hand. 

It’s as if the wrath that was mounting within him completely melted away. He feels the warmth of his hand like this, holding Caspar’s own, gently rubbing his thumb in slow circles to soothe him. It does help in calming him down, but it brings out an entirely different problem-

Caspar’s heart is racing against his chest as if it were ready to jump out. 

They stay like this for some time, enjoying the show; once it’s over, the imperial princess of the story comes out victorious of her war, and she unifies the nations. After a few rounds of applause while the actors bow, the curtain falls down. 

“Well, that certainly was interesting,” Linhardt muses when the lights progressively turn back on. “I’ll need to look into this story further. Some elements of it really sounded like the type of book I would want to write.”

“Ah, really?” Caspar pipes up, and when they stand up, he realizes that this time, he’s the one holding Linhardt’s hand. He didn’t realize he hasn’t let go at all during the rest of the show. As he pulls it away, flustered, he rubs at the back of his head. “Y-yeah, I thought it was really good too! We should, uh, go backstage to meet up with Dorothea, right?” 

“I am also wanting to see her!” Petra exclaims as she passes by, unknowingly breaking the strange atmosphere hovering between the two. 

An amused smile lifts up the corners of Linhardt’s mouth. “Let’s go.” 

*

Dorothea is overjoyed to see all her friends entering the back room. Still in her costume and make-up, she greets them enthusiastically, giving them the opportunity to meet the other actors. She’s showered in compliments for a good amount of time, as Petra keeps close to her, kissing her cheek every now and then. 

The group has the chance to share some fancy drinks together, lounging around in a beautiful red couch. Caspar, once again, is seated next to Linhardt, who seems a little more tired than before, but that’s nothing too surprising. 

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Dorothea says as she sits near them, when the crowd disperses to talk between themselves and let the star breathe. “Lin, was it your first time seeing an opera? Do they have this sort of things in Dagda?” 

Caspar raises an eyebrow, looking left and right between the two. “Dagda…?” 

The next thing he feels is a slight jab of Linhardt’s elbow in his side. “Oof.” 

“I’ve seen some operas, but those in Dagda are very different,” Linhardt answers without hesitation. “Usually, they’re a lot more tragic. I’m happy that this one ended with the princess being victorious. I especially loved the part when...” 

Caspar has no idea what’s going on, but it seems like Dorothea is nodding along; ugh, Linhardt should’ve at least told him about that blatant lie he made up about Dagda… it’s actually kind of surprising that Dorothea even _believes_ him. 

Linhardt and Dorothea end up chatting over the details of the story, even things that Caspar didn’t notice at all. And whenever Linhardt finds something he’s interested in, it seems like nothing can stop him from rambling on and on about it; not that Caspar finds it in any way annoying. No, he does think that trait is particularly endearing… Caspar finds himself listening intently, until exhaustion beats Linhardt’s eagerness to talk more. 

It’s a sudden exhaustion, too. Linhardt almost ends up falling asleep right against Caspar’s shoulder before he catches himself up. 

“Hm, maybe we should go…” Caspar says, and it seems like Dorothea has to have some time alone to rest and get back into a more comfortable attire anyway. 

“It was a pleasure to see you all,” she says, “I hope we can do something fun together again soon! It’s is a boring season if we stay indoors…”

“See you soon, Dorothea!” 

They all leave the room one after another, each going their separate ways to go home. But as Caspar realizes how late it is, he sighs at the idea of having to wait longer for the buses to come. If they find any, that is…

“Want a ride?” Byleth catches his attention, and he turns to her. “Dimitri and I aren’t driving anyone back tonight, so you can come along if you want.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you exist,” Caspar says when he sees Dimitri’s car, and he holds Linhardt’s wrist to drag him there. “Dimitri, you’re saving our lives! Linhardt’s so tired I would probably need to carry him home.” 

“It’s no problem at all,” Dimitri says, amused by Caspar’s reaction. 

During the ride, Linhardt ends up staying awake; it doesn’t help that Byleth is blasting her favorite music at full volume. One would think that she’d start dancing and singing along, but she’s staying perfectly still in the passenger seat, drinking iced tea through a straw. It’s almost shocking how Dimitri still looks at her like she’s a somewhat normal wife. 

When Caspar and Linhardt are finally dropped off, they walk slowly to the apartment door, and Caspar fumbles around with his keys in the dark. Linhardt stays close to him, watching him struggle without a word; and as Caspar curses under his breath, he feels a trembling hand resting against his shoulder.

“Caspar…” Linhardt doesn’t seem tired at all anymore. His eyes are shining red again. That familiar expression comes back on Linhardt’s features - that unbearable hunger…

“I need… I need to drink…” he murmurs, and Caspar almost drops his keys. Right, of course he would - it’s already been a few days since he hasn’t had any blood... 

"Okay," Caspar utters as calmly as he can, turning around. Linhardt's eyes are completely red at this point, yet there's still a sort of desperate expression in them, something almost pitiful. "Then… Uh…" 

"I just need to leave for a minute or two, find some stranger, drink a bit of their blood, heal them and go back immediately. I promise I'll be home before you know it," Linhardt explains hurriedly, his hand drifting off Caspar's shoulder. "If I don't drink now, I don't know how I'll…"

Caspar thinks about the risks. There's still a possibility that the Agarthans could've been waiting for this as an opportunity to trap him and capture him; and the last time the two fought them, they were lucky that they came out of it alive. Letting him go for a hunt, even if it's only for a few minutes, is out of the question. 

There _is_ another option he'd thought of, one that wouldn't inconvenience a stranger or involve Linhardt putting himself in danger in an unlit alley. Caspar feels himself shuddering just thinking about it, but there's no other choice. 

"I have a better idea," he answers as he opens the door to his home. "Come on."

Linhardt seems perplexed, his eyes still a deep crimson color as he follows him inside. His lips are parted to reveal sharp, hungry fangs that Caspar's eyes wander to as the two move inside the bedroom. Caspar turns around and starts to unbutton his shirt. 

"What are you doing?" Linhardt asks as his eyes widen, and Caspar _does_ notice the way they stop to stare at his uncovered neck for a few seconds more. 

"Drink my blood, Linhardt." Caspar's tone is determined.

Linhardt doesn't question him; he already knows that Caspar isn't joking, he _wouldn't,_ not with these sorts of things. There's a heavy silence falling upon them as Caspar stands before the other man, shirt opened up, his stare pinning Linhardt in place. 

"I can't possibly do that," Linhardt whispers, shaking his head. He looks away from the sight in front of him, as if he were trying to escape. "I didn't come here to hurt you, Caspar."

"You won't hurt me." Caspar takes a step closer to him as his brow furrows. "And it's like you said - you're going to heal me after that, right?" 

For some time, Linhardt doesn't answer. He's simply staring at the base of Caspar's neck, unmoving, breathing as if it were painful. 

Caspar swallows sharply as he watches Linhardt's tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I'll be able to heal you indeed, but-" 

"You want to know, right?" Caspar cuts him off, taking another step forward. By now, the two are merely inches apart, and Linhardt's pupils widen in interest. "...how my blood tastes."

Linhardt finally closes his mouth, hiding his fangs behind his lips. Hunger darkens his eyes, and it looks like whatever words he was going to say end up dying at the tip of his tongue. Truth be told, Caspar starts to feel the warmth rushing to his face after hearing himself say that; but he’s thrown himself to deep into this to even try to go back on his words.

“I’m assuming you _were_ awake last night, when I…” Linhardt starts speaking with a sort of defeated tone. 

“Why didn’t you do it?” Caspar asks, “why didn’t you bite me?” 

Linhardt closes his eyes, and he walks to the bed to sit down. It seems like their conversation has distracted him a little from his hunger, at least for now. “It would be extremely rude to do such a thing to the person who places enough trust in a vampire to invite them into their home. I was driven by my hunger for a moment at the time, which is why I was so close to doing it. But ultimately, I…” 

When Linhardt raises his gaze to look at Caspar’s face, he notices his exasperated expression. “...But could it be that you _wanted_ me to bite you?”

“Ugh, I just-!” Caspar throws his head into his hands, and he ruffles his own hair; Linhardt’s guess is spot on. There’s simply no other way to say it. Caspar _wants_ him to do it so that Linhardt can feel better, so that he can regain some strength without feeling obligated to attack anyone. So that he… 

Fuck it. Honestly, Caspar _really_ wants to know how it feels for _him,_ too. But admitting it feels so embarrassing that his head might explode. He’s never been trained for this. He didn’t even know he would ever be curious about being bitten by a vampire until it was about to happen. 

“I’m… I’m just…” Fumbling with his words, Caspar finds himself unable to answer honestly. But Linhardt is looking to him with a pleased smile now, his fangs showing themselves again as he parts his lips to speak. 

“Caspar, it’s alright. I won’t deny you if you want it…” Linhardt breathes deeply. “After all, you were right. I _do_ want to know how your blood tastes.” 

These words have another, slightly different sensation jolting through Caspar’s body. The words make him shudder in anticipation - fuck, all he wants right now is to try it. It’s as if it were calling for him.

“O-Okay,” Caspar stutters, completely red-faced, and Linhardt is obviously amused by all this, as if the reward of blood were only a luxury at this point. “Uh, how should I…?”

To Caspar’s confusion, Linhardt gestures towards the bed. “You might want to sit down and get comfortable. I’m not going to take so much blood that you’ll collapse, but judging by how nervous you are, you might do so as soon as I bite down.” 

Caspar feels his entire being crumbling down from being read through so well. “Hey! It’s not like I’ve ever offered my blood to a vampire before - did you think I would be an expert on this?!”

Linhardt laughs softly, although his movement indicates impatience as he drags him towards the bed. Caspar ends up with his back leaned against the wall, hands at his side, feeling his bed creak under him as Linhardt crawls closer to him. “In all seriousness, please do stop me if it gets too much for you. As promised, I’ll only take a little bit of it,” he whispers, kneeling in front of the other man. 

“Yeah…” Caspar realizes that he stops breathing when Linhardt’s hand slides up his bare chest, resting upon the crook of his neck, the tips of his fingers caressing the area he’s been intently looking at with parted lips. 

“Caspar, you’re trembling,” Linhardt murmurs against his skin, and the hot air sends goosebumps all over Caspar’s upper-half. “Breathe calmly.” 

It’s easy for him to say. Caspar tries his best to do so, but when he feels Linhardt’s mouth gently pressed against his neck, a gasp parts his lips. Now isn’t the time to jump and panic. He has to steel himself; Linhardt needs it, and _he_ needs it too, more than anything else at the moment.

He braces himself for the sting, but what comes first is the wet sensation of Linhardt’s tongue swiping across a particular spot, most likely the one he’s chosen to bite. But instead of going for it, despite his hunger, he makes the anticipation last a little longer, as if it were enjoyable for him to feel Caspar shuddering against his teeth. It probably is. 

After some time, Linhardt uses his hands to grab at the edges of Caspar’s shirt, pulling it down further to give himself more room. He’s still mouthing at his neck, licking, _kissing_ even, as one of his hands now moves up to rest on his collarbone. 

Then, Caspar finally feels them - the fangs poking at his skin gently at first. Linhardt lets out a delighted sigh as if he could already taste him. He gives enough wordless warnings for Caspar to know when he’s about to bite down, and he still does it as gently as he can.

“Ngh--!!” The teeth pierce holes into his skin, so Caspar can’t say that it doesn’t hurt. It’s hard to prevent himself from grunting as Linhardt’s fangs sink deeply into him, but by the time they’re settled in he realizes that the pain is somehow smothered by something else.

It’s a _strange_ feeling to say the least. Caspar realizes that his hands are gripping at Linhardt’s shirt to try and focus on something else, but as he tries to relax, he suddenly becomes hyper aware of the flow of his own blood from his neck right into Linhardt’s open mouth. Linhardt’s eyelids are slowly fluttering down, his cheeks tinted a pink hue. 

Quick breaths are coming out of Caspar’s lips, and he has to prevent a particularly obscene groan from leaving his mouth as well by shoving his palm in front of his mouth. It hurt at first, and it still kind of does, but… there’s another sensation shadowing it, a sort of pleasure coursing through his veins - something unusually dark. 

He wants more. And if he could give more, he would, because the sound of Linhardt gulping down his warm blood with an appreciative hum is something he now wants to hear over and over again. 

Just as he starts to feel a little dizzy, Linhardt slowly withdraws his fangs, instantly covering the puncture wounds with his fingers as they immediately glow with healing magic. He averts his eyes from the bite mark, unwilling to look at the dripping blood for too long, instead watching Caspar’s expression with much softer eyes. They aren’t crimson anymore; back to their blue color. And as he licks at the pearl of blood dripping down at the corner of his mouth, Caspar’s heart leaps. 

“Are you alright?” Linhardt asks with a much calmer tone. He looks a little worried, but Caspar tries to dismiss it all as he nods. Suddenly, he wishes Linhardt’s lips could be back on his neck, perhaps not for more blood just yet, but for something that could last a little longer. 

“Y-Yeah,” Caspar’s voice comes out a lot quieter than he intends it to, and the sound is almost timidly hopeful, clearly showing his desire to let Linhardt have a little more of his blood. Realistically, he knows he would probably pass out, and he knows it’s not what Linhardt wants. 

"Thank you for giving me some of your blood, Caspar," Linhardt muses quietly as he finishes healing his friend. "Do you want to know what I think?" 

"Huh?" 

Linhardt bends down to get a little closer, and with his lips near his ear, he whispers a few words.

“You taste amazing.”

And with that, he lets himself lie down onto the bed, his head sinking into the pillow, and it looks like he _immediately_ falls asleep.

Meanwhile, Caspar is a complete mess, melting from embarrassment as he tries to muster a response, to no avail. 

He never once thought that he'd feel this way about a compliment made towards his _blood_. "I, um… thank you," Caspar awkwardly answers, completely stunned, and he realizes that he's probably making things weirder than they need to be. It's alright, it was just a little blood, right? He did this to help out his friend, right? 

As he looks down at himself, he realizes the state he's in; still half-naked, his chest flushed in embarrassment, and of course, there's still the lingering sensation of Linhardt's lips on the base of his neck. 

Caspar throws his head into his hand. 

Was it really supposed to feel _this_ good…? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (caspar voice) oh shit am i into this   
> Hope you liked it!!   
> Feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons !


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar doesn’t believe he’s ever had so many dreams in a single night. 
> 
> Perhaps it’s a side effect of having his blood sucked by a vampire. It probably is, because most of these dreams consist of Linhardt plunging his fangs into him again; it’s always at a different place each time, in different circumstances, each time more intense than before. But every single time, Caspar finds himself waking up with a gasp, only to fall back asleep minutes after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update yall!! Writing this story is really fun i hope you like it (eyes emoji)
> 
> a bit nsfw at the beginning

Caspar doesn’t believe he’s ever had so many dreams in a single night. 

Perhaps it’s a side effect of having his blood sucked by a vampire. It probably is, because most of these dreams consist of Linhardt plunging his fangs into him again; it’s always at a different place each time, in different circumstances, each time more intense than before. But every single time, Caspar finds himself waking up with a gasp, only to fall back asleep minutes after. So he’s stopped counting how many times it happens. 

But what he can’t forget is the way Linhardt sits in front of him, bends over him, lies him down just to get his lips on his neck. He can’t forget his mouth toying with him, drawing out unexpected sounds out of Caspar as if it were a game. In some dreams, Caspar is the one kissing his neck, nibbling without drawing blood, just for the sake of pleasure—and _oh,_ how gorgeous Linhardt sounds whenever he’s the one under him. 

It never goes any further than this; Caspar always ends up waking up before his mind takes him to other places. The last dream he has before his alarm rings is once again overly sensual, although it still involves his blood being taken in the end. 

There’s no way he’s having this many dreams for any other reason than that it’s a _side effect_ . Caspar tries to assure himself of that fact as he slowly rises, sitting up on the bed. His hand passes through his own hair, and the slight tug in the covers reminds him of the presence that’s been with him all night long.   
  
Linhardt had fallen asleep right after he got the blood he needed, and it doesn’t seem like anything roused him from his slumber, not even the alarm. Caspar feels something strange pulling at the strings of his heart when he watches his sleeping face, as his hands slides down to brush at his own neck, right where Linhardt had bitten. 

And as Caspar tries to get up, he realizes that _something else_ within him has awakened. 

He rushes to the bathroom, locking the door behind himself; fuck, fuck, _fuck_ morning wood is definitely something that happens, but he knows this time it’s linked to all the images his mind sent him. Horrible. Just horrible. If only he had known that he would get so turned on by the idea of a vampire drinking his blood—well, maybe things wouldn’t be so different, but at least he could’ve started being more honest with himself a while ago. 

He ends up letting his frustration take over, essentially shouting at his hard-on like some kind of animal before doing all he can to get rid of it. He splashes ice cold water on his face, does jumping jacks, push-ups, _anything_ —and the moment he starts to calm down, he hears a voice on the other side of the door.

“Goodness Caspar, is everything alright?” Linhardt asks, probably woken up by Caspar’s shouting. “Did you hit your head in the shower?”

“I’m fine! I’m! Fine!” Caspar exclaims, barking out an obviously fake laugh. “I’m a little late to work, I gotta rush!” 

He shudders before storming out of the bathroom; thankfully, he’s not hard anymore, but it’s difficult to look Linhardt in the eyes without all these images coming back to him. “Anyway, uh— you hungry?” 

Linhardt shows a look of complete confusion, but he doesn’t ask any further, and Caspar is immensely grateful for that. “I’m fine, thanks to you,” Linhardt answers with a small smile, then yawns, as he always does. “I think all I need is to sleep a little while longer…” 

_Nothing too surprising,_ Caspar thinks to himself as he lets out a relieved sigh. “Okay, you can do that! I’ll keep the curtains closed!” 

Linhardt promptly goes back to bed, and Caspar tries to fake being in a hurry so he can leave this place as quickly as possible. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Linhardt anymore, but he _definitely_ needs to be away for some time. To… think. About anything. 

When Caspar is finally ready to go, Linhardt is still in the bedroom, fully asleep under the warm blankets like a spoiled prince. He tries not to make too much noise as to not wake him up again, then rushes outside, and he decides that he’ll jog to the highschool again to stop his thoughts from wandering. 

*

“Hey Caspar,” Claude greets him as he puts a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from falling asleep on the break room table. As he raises his head to look at his coworker across the table, he almost wants to scream at himself—he _never_ dozes off in the middle of the day like this. Linhardt might be rubbing off on him. 

“What.” Caspar’s voice is utterly strained, and he clears his throat when he realizes how terrible he sounds. 

“Wow, you _do_ look terrible,” Claude says, amused by it all. “Kept hearing the students talk about how… unusual you are today. They said you looked like you could snap at any moment.”

Caspar puts his hand over his head; it’s hurting a little, and it’s certainly not helping his mood. He’s not angry, nothing of the sort, but… he has to admit that he feels _strange_. 

“Ugh, yeah, I just…” he tries to explain himself, but he doesn’t want to reveal anything about what his life is like at the moment. “I dunno. I might be a little sick.”

Claude hums pensively. Doubtful, he can’t help but raise his eyebrows as he crosses his arms. “I mean, you’ve been acting pretty weird for a few days now, to me. If there’s something going on, you could talk to me about it—I’m not gonna call the cops or anything.” 

Caspar grumbles as he puts his stuff in order again. His break had just started, and he’s already wasted time falling asleep on the table. “Nah, it’s fine, really; I feel bad that the kids thought I was angry though. I’ll try to be careful about that…”

With a smile, Claude simply nods. “Well, they can probably handle a frown once in a while,” he answers, “but I should tell you, you’re not the only one who’s been acting weird,” he continues as he leans back into his seat and lifts his foot to rest it on the table. “You, the Professor, Ashe, Dorothea—and your friend Linhardt, especially, seem like you’ve been hiding something.” 

Of course Claude would figure out that something is _off_ about Caspar and Linhardt. But what about the others? Ashe is probably a little weird because of the Agarthan mages he had to fight out of nowhere (which Caspar has yet to talk to him about), but Byleth and Dorothea? Caspar doesn’t remember them acting strangely. 

“Look, even Petra! My cousin said she went to visit his wyvern farm a few days ago,” Claude continues, and _that_ makes Caspar pull back in surprise. 

“Your cousin has a fucking _wyvern farm_?” He asks, because Petra going there isn’t the weirdest part about this. It’s that there’s a damn wyvern farm close to this town and he wasn’t even aware of it. “Okay... maybe Petra wants a wyvern, she can do what she wants, right?”

Claude laughs quietly. “Wyvern aren’t creatures you just get as pets, you know. They’re usually helpful for when you’re about to go to war against something, they’re not even great for traveling, so…” 

“Why does your cousin even have a—”

Before Caspar can continue his question, his phone vibrates inside his pocket, and he pulls it out. 

_ >>We are out of milk _

_Who is this << _

_ >>Linhardt _

_ >>Do you think you could buy some before you come home _

Hold on. Since _when_ does Linhardt have a phone?! Caspar forgets completely about his conversation with Claude, his eyes entirely focused on the screen by now. It seems like Claude is giving up on getting any comprehensive answer today anyway. 

_How tf are you texting me Linhardt << _

_??? << _

_ >>I may have forgotten to tell you, but I found a phone _

_What do you mean ‘found’ << _

_Did you steal someones phone?? << _

_ >>I found it on the ground _

_ >>There was someone standing next to it, but that’s irrelevant _

_That is literally called stealing << _

_What are we gonna do if its owner finds you!! Were in so much trouble wtf << _

_ >>I just have to make sure that they don’t find me _

_ >>Relax. It was really important that I acquired something that allowed me to communicate with you. Let’s worry about the consequences later _

_Nope im going to think about this all day now!! << _

_But ok ill get the milk << _

Caspar isn’t really comfortable with any of this, but it seems like Linhardt does _not_ care about it being illegal. And it doesn’t look like Caspar can do much about that—at least for now. 

"Anyway Claude, it was good talking to you, but I gotta grab some food," Caspar says, waving his hand without looking at him. "And uh, don’t think too much about all of this okay?”

"Fine, I guess," Claude scoffs giving up with a smile for now. Caspar finally manages to escape the other man's questioning as he walks out of the highschool to get himself something for lunch. 

But his phone hasn't left his hand, and Linhardt texts him once more. 

_ >>I'm worried about something _

_Yeah? << _

_ >>You were acting a little strange this morning, and I was curious about whether or not it was due to what happened last night _

_ >>Me drinking your blood, that is _

'No shit', Caspar thinks to himself. 

_Its totally fine I was just late to work << _

_ >>I see _

_ >>Still, I can sense that your perception of me has changed. I want you to be assured that I really didn't plan on drinking your blood when I first came to ask for your help _

_I know, I was the one who told you to do this << _

_You really dont need to worry!! << _

_ >>I'd like to discuss this further, but doing it via text is too much of a hassle _

_ >>Let's eat somewhere nice tonight _

Caspar pauses on this text, nearly bumping into a pole while he walks down the street. 

Is Linhardt asking him out on a _date_? He suddenly grows nervous as he tries to reply, only to delete whatever he writes multiple times before starting again. But maybe he's thinking too much about it. 

_Alright << _

_But with what money tho << _

He settles on teasing him a little; it's not like Caspar doesn't have the money to treat him, but since it's Linhardt who's deciding… 

_ >>Mine _

_You have money? << _

_ >>I found a wallet on the ground. Next to the phone _

_Are you serious!!! We gotta return this!!! << _

_ >>There's no ID card inside. It's mine now _

  
  


Great. A vampire and a thief. Caspar decides that trying to argue about this any further is absolutely going to give him a _real_ headache, so he decides to let it go for now. 

The rest of the day passes quickly enough; Caspar has finally regained a bit of energy after eating, so the afternoon classes go rather smoothly. He's still thinking about the conversation from earlier; he'd never seen Linhardt actually worried about his actions, so this was a bit of a surprise. He doesn't get any more texts, and doesn't really want to send any in case the other man is taking another nap. 

By the time Caspar heads out of work, the sky is already dark. He takes a different path home to put his thoughts somewhere other than the potential date he's going on later, because if he's honest with himself, he's a little flustered by it all. He decides to blame it on the strange dreams he had all night long. 

The path he takes leads him to a street he's never walked through before. As he walks in, he's surprised to see that there are only a handful of people walking around. One man seems to stand in his way, and Caspar plans on simply stepping around him until he gets a good look at him. 

It's the man from the opera… the tall, pale man with an ice cold glare who kept his eyes on him and then vanished out of nowhere. He watches Caspar stop in his tracks in front of him.

"Can I help you?" Caspar asks warily as he makes sure to keep a safe distance between them. 

The other man seems a bit surprised by his words, but the slight expression of confusion on his face is soon overshadowed by a disturbing chuckle. "It seems your friend has found my phone."

Shit. So _this_ is the guy Linhardt stole his phone from? Couldn't he have picked someone who doesn't look like a literal demon?! 

"Ah, I'm really sorry about that," Caspar apologizes on his friend’s behalf, scratching his head. "What's your name? I don't have it with me right now, it's at my place, but I can definitely return it to you—"

"My name is Hubert von Vestra," the man says as he crosses his arms. "But let him keep the phone. I dropped it for him, as well as the unidentified wallet." 

Caspar raises his eyebrows, so stunned by such an unexpected answer that he doesn't know what to reply for an instant. "Uh… you sure? I mean, they're yours, right?" 

"Hardly," Hubert answers calmly, and Caspar realizes that as the time passes, fewer people pass through this particular street. "I simply borrowed those tools so that Linhardt may communicate with you more effectively. Just in case something... awful were to happen."

Caspar feels his blood turning to ice. So this guy knows Linhardt. It only makes sense now why he was staring so intently at them back at the opera, but then... who or _what_ is he? If not an Agarthan, then what? 

"What do you want?" Caspar asks coldly, his hands balling into fists just in case something _awful_ has to happen, like Hubert getting his teeth knocked out. 

"Do not be mistaken," he answers, and if Caspar thought his own voice was cold, then Hubert's own is a damn _blizzard_. "I am on your side… reluctantly. I was sent by my master to make sure that he's in a safe enough place until we get rid of the Agarthan mages. But I will admit, things would have been immensely easier if he had not left his homeland for his trivial research; his presence alone could throw your city into chaos."

A silence passes between them, and Caspar shivers from the sudden wind that blows against his back. “What are you talking about?” He asks. “None of this is his fault!” 

Hubert gives an exasperated sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I see you are quick to defend him. Forget about what I said,” he adds. “Today, I came to see you because I was curious as to why Linhardt would choose to go to a human for help. But you seem to have good intentions.” 

“Of course I do!” Caspar exclaims. “But, uh, yeah, I guess I don’t really know why he came to _me_ specifically. Does it matter though?”

An unsettling smile draws itself across Hubert’s face. By now, they’re the only two people in the street, as if the man’s aura had prevented anyone else from passing through. That, or some more magic, who even knows at this point. 

“As long as your intentions _stay_ good, it does not matter,” he utters as he readjusts one of his gloves around his hand. “But perhaps you should know that unlike the dark mages, I have no qualms about attacking humans if needed. If you end up becoming a threat to Enbarr, I will not hesitate to crush you." 

Caspar isn’t sure he understands—he has nothing to do with Enbarr in the first place, so why would he become a _threat_? 

The moment he wants to ask, he can’t do anything but watch as Hubert disappears; or rather, _disperses_ into hundreds of tiny bats, flying above the buildings and out of sight. 

It looks like there’s still a lot Caspar doesn’t know about vampires and their world, and it feels like he has to learn everything at once if he wants to protect Linhardt properly. 

Perhaps he should ask _him_ the questions rather than someone he’s just met on the street. 

*

Linhardt is still playing with the phone he found as he lounges around on Caspar's couch; his friend has been away for a while today, and staying here alone is becoming a little boring. He expects there to be at least an internet connection on the phone, but there isn't—and when he looks for mobile games to pass the time, he finds none either. 

He could nap, but he's already done so for a good portion of the day, and he can't say that he has any more fatigue within him at the moment. For an instant, he looks at his messages, then decides to send one to Caspar again. 

_When will you be home? << _

Once he’s done typing, he puts the phone at his side, and waits for a response while staring at the ceiling. He usually doesn’t mind the wait—he even has the computer he can use to pass the time, but if he’s honest with himself for once… he feels somewhat nervous. 

It had taken only a second for him to decide to take Caspar to dinner tonight, but ever since he sent the text, it’s all he’s been thinking about. While this dinner is supposed to mostly help with talking about their situation, the blood drinking, everything—he can’t deny that he’s fairly enthusiastic about getting to sit face to face with him for a while. Talking to him. Looking at him.

The sound of his phone buzzing snaps him out of his thoughts, _thankfully_ . He immediately grabs the device, but is disappointed with the fact that the text he just received was _not_ sent by Caspar. No, instead, it’s a sender who was registered in this phone under the name ‘BV’

_ >>hi um _

_ >>okay i just wanna make sure youre getting this text so can you reply if you do please? _

Linhardt doesn’t respond immediately. It’s not his phone after all, this could very well be one of its owner’s friends. 

_ >>i wasnt told to do this or anything but uh i guess i just wanted to tell you to be careful! a lot of mages have been showing up in garreg mach lately and it could get dangerous _

Oh. It seems like he was wrong. 

_Who is this? << _

_ >>ahh weve met several times but you probably dont remember me,, no you definitely dont _

_ >>but it doesnt matter! just be careful okay linhardt? and i really hope that human wont try anything bc i really dont want to have to shoot him and stuff _

Linhardt stares at this string of texts for a while, unable to determine who this person is; it can't be that the vampires of his homeland followed him into the town to _watch_ him… right?

_I don't know any Linhardt << _

_ >>ahhh okay sorry i guess that was the wrong number _

_ >>wait no hubert told me it was you. its you right?? _

Oh _no._

Linhardt has no idea who the sender is, but he definitely knows _Hubert_ . He had a hunch that the phone and the wallet he found were placed much too conveniently at his feet, but for some reason, he hadn't decided to look at _who_ dropped it. Knowing Hubert, he's probably greatly mistrustful of Caspar. Linhardt hopes the two haven't crossed paths yet… 

But why would Hubert be here? Sure, he's another vampire, but he always showed how annoyed he was with Linhardt's research and other antics. That he would follow him here to make sure that the Agarthans don't harm him… 

Not only does that seem unlikely, but Linhardt also finds the idea extremely infuriating. Hubert is most likely here to try and convince him to go back to Enbarr, because ‘ _vampires don’t belong in a human town’_ , all that nonsense. 

_I’m in a very safe place at the moment, and there is no need for anyone to come pester me << _

_Whoever you are, please tell Hubert that he may go home << _

_ >>i didnt want to make you mad, im sorry _

_ >>its just,, ive been tasked with protecting you from afar a few days ago, and i kinda just wanted to know who you were exactly _

_Who told you to protect me? << _

_ >>just forget about this conversation ok!!! i shouldnt even have said anything aaaa _

Linhardt desperately needs to know what exactly is going on, but this person is exhausting to talk to for now, even via text. He hesitates for an instant about whether or not he should ask more, but immediately forgets about it when he finally gets the notifications of Caspar’s replies.

_ >>I'm omw home and I have milk _

_ >>also I met a guy who knows you and I'm a bit concerned? _

Linhardt believes that it'll be much easier to explain everything once Caspar comes back home, so he puts his phone away, lying down on the couch and shoving his face into the cushion. He muffles a frustrated yell before getting up to rush to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror for some time to make sure that his hair isn't looking completely messy right now. 

When Caspar arrives home, he finds Linhardt standing right in front of the door, looking wide awake for once. But his eyes seem darkened by some kind of worry, something that vanishes slowly as Caspar steps inside. 

“Did you meet Hubert?” Linhardt instantly asks as he follows Caspar with his gaze; at the very least, he’s not injured in any way. 

“Yeah, that was him!” Caspar answers as he looks back, letting go of his bags. “He told me he knew you…” 

Linhardt sighs, shifting closer to Caspar and taking a closer look at him; under his stare, Caspar feels himself growing a bit tense. “Did he hurt you in any way? Threaten you?” Linhardt asks, his tone concerned, almost careful. 

Caspar lets out a little laugh and scratches his head. “Threatened me a bit, yeah…” he’s hesitant to say what exactly Hubert told him; at least for now. “What’s up with that guy?”

“I’ve met him several times,” Linhardt answers with a nod, helping to take the groceries out of Caspar’s bag. “Back in my homeland, we were neighbors, sort of. It seems like he and a few other vampires followed me here. Now that I think about it, those bats that chased down the demonic beast in that subway tunnel…”

“Do you think it was him?”

“He was most likely the black bat,” Linhardt adds, then hums with a finger on his chin. “The two white bats were… no, that seems unlikely…” 

“Who?”

Linhardt suddenly gives up on his line of thought, then drops his hands to his sides. “Ah, this is giving me a headache. All I know is that for some reason, they’ve gotten into the town as well. It would be wonderful if they could deal with the Agarthans in our place.”

Caspar can’t help but snicker at that. Of course Linhardt doesn’t want to fight these enemies, and Caspar sort of understands why, after he’s seen how strong they can be. 

But… when he looks at him like that, he knows for a fact that _he_ wants to help, too. All the trust he’s placed into Linhardt slowly started turning into compassion, and all he wants for him now is to be safe. He’d like to lend his strength to these other vampires, but how does he even go about asking something like that? 

“Anyway Caspar,” Linhardt begins as he rolls his shoulders. “As I’ve said to you before, I’d like to invite you to dinner tonight. I believe there are some things we must talk about.”

The rhythm of Caspar’s heartbeat increases a little as he hears him say it out loud. Reading the request on his phone was already nerve-racking, but now, Linhardt is even _more_ straightforward about it. 

“Um… I appreciate it,” he says, and looking at Linhardt’s smile throws him back into the images his mind sent him throughout the night. Suddenly, his neck tingles. 

Perhaps there are some things he should bring up too.

Later, when Linhardt waits for Caspar to finish getting ready, he finds himself looking through the contacts of the phone he found. Most of these names consist of initials he doesn’t know about, but one in particular named ‘EH’ feels more familiar. 

He hasn’t received any messages from this one, but in a moment of impulsive curiosity, he decides to start the conversation himself. 

_You’re probably around here too << _

_I wonder why you care so much about what happens to me << _

Surprisingly, Linhardt doesn’t wait for long before getting an answer. And when he does, it seems like his screen glitches for a split second. 

_ >>You may call it solidarity. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons !


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caspar glances at him through the corner of his eye—he has to wonder if Linhardt’s hair is looking a little silkier than usual, or if that’s just his imagination. 
> 
> Well, as for himself… he did spend a little more time than usual styling his hair and dressing nicely. According to Linhardt, the place where they’re going is pretty fancy, and Caspar almost can’t believe that this is happening. This is definitely a date. He’s going on a date. With Linhardt. A vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! Here's the chapter yall have been waiting for! i really loved writing i think yall know why B)
> 
> cw: explicit sexual content in the second half of the chapter

As it turns out, there’s a  _ lot  _ of money in the wallet that Linhardt ‘found’. Perhaps Hubert deemed it useful, but Caspar still feels a little unsure about accepting random money from a stranger. Who even knows how Hubert even  _ got  _ that money. Caspar doesn’t think he wants to know at all. Linhardt, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care about that. 

No, instead, he looks rather enthusiastic about all this. If Linhardt’s enthusiasm can be characterized by a smile that lasts longer than usual on his features, that is. As the two walk together to who knows where, Caspar glances at him through the corner of his eye—he has to wonder if Linhardt’s hair is looking a little silkier than usual, or if that’s just his imagination. 

Well, as for himself… he  _ did  _ spend a little more time than usual styling his hair and dressing nicely. According to Linhardt, the place where they’re going is pretty fancy, and Caspar almost can’t believe that this is happening. This is definitely a date. He’s going on a date. With Linhardt. A vampire.

He didn’t think any of this would happen when he first welcomed Linhardt into his home, but he doesn’t think he wants to go back on that decision. He doesn’t know if Linhardt sees it as a date at all, he didn’t ask—but at least, he looks happy. And Caspar doesn’t mind having to stare at that smile for a few hours shared around a nice dinner. 

They arrive at the restaurant right on time, and even the front of the building looks fancier than anything Caspar’s ever been invited to. As nicely as he’s trying to present himself, he still feels sort of inadequate here; Linhardt is the one to speak to the waiters this time. Caspar’s gaze is just traveling around the room as they enter, and everything looks so amazingly comfortable and delicious that he thinks for a moment that none of this is real. 

Linhardt had unexpectedly made reservations, so they’re quickly led to their table, and the two sit face to face on soft velvet chairs. The table is situated next to a large glass wall, and from here, they have a nice view over the lake. 

“Linhardt, that sure is… a lot,” Caspar says, completely unsure about his manners. Should he put his hands on his knees? On the table? Where do his elbows go, then? “I’ve never been to such a nice place before. It looks like you have, though.” 

Linhardt tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, smiling softly. "My parents are fairly rich, and since my father is human, he still needs to eat human food. I usually went with him to places like these, but it was always extremely boring. It's a lot more exciting with you."

"Ah." Caspar feels his heart flutter. "I'm… I'm glad you feel that way! Don't worry, I'll definitely live up to your expectations!" 

Linhardt lets out a sigh, but it sounds somewhat endeared. "Relax, Caspar. This isn't a contest or anything of the sort. Besides..." He looks up from underneath his long lashes as Caspar takes a sip from his glass of water. "You don't even need to work that hard to make me enjoy the time I spend with you."

The water that Caspar was drinking almost gets stuck in his throat; he quickly puts his glass down, then breathes slowly so that he doesn't cough and make an absolute fool of himself. "Yeah! I feel the same!" He blurts out, then tries to relax as Linhardt told him to. It's _ impossible _ . "I mean, I'm glad we got to know each other a little more! I know the way we met was pretty wild, and I'm probably not the best human to study, but… it's still really fun to hang out. Thank you for inviting me, Linhardt."

"You certainly were exhausting to study," Linhardt says as his fingers absentmindedly flip through the pages of the menu. "You do so many things every day, without a moment to rest, I absolutely couldn’t follow. It's astounding, really."

"You got that right," Caspar laughs in response. "I mean, you're tired all the time! That doesn't help!" 

"Not  _ all  _ the time," Linhardt says, "right now, I'm actually wide awake. I have you to thank for that."

The two spend some time talking about anything and everything that comes to mind, laughing over Caspar’s jokes and clumsy manners. Caspar almost gets to forget for some time about the dangers lurking in the empty streets of this town; for now, it doesn’t seem like anything is after them, so he does manage to relax a bit. Sure, the way he sits and acts is probably unfit for a place as fancy as this, but it doesn’t seem like something he can fix. 

After a few moments, a waitress brings their food to the table. As she sets the plates down, her movements are slow, careful, as if she were afraid to break everything with a single misstep—Caspar is a little surprised, too, when he notices that she stands by the table a little longer than normal. 

Confused, the two look up to see her face. The waitress looks completely unfamiliar to Caspar; her brown eyes escape them, her expression surprised and somewhat… panicked? Blue bangs fall across her forehead as she attempts to hide her gaze behind them; and she quickly bows to them before going back to her work. 

“Uh…” Caspar is unsure if he should point out anything about her, but her attitude is a little concerning. Especially since they have to be wary about most people these days. “You know her or something? She looked like she was surprised to see you.”

Linhardt pauses for a moment. He seems like he’s deep in thought, like he’s trying to remember something… to no avail. 

“No. I’ve never seen her before,” Linhardt answers as he shakes his head. “But she does remind me of someone else, oddly enough…”

Caspar waits for him to continue, but Linhardt ends up waving his hand in dismissal. “It’s not very important. Let’s eat for now, alright?”

Caspar can’t argue with that. He can’t help but stare at his plate for a while with an open mouth and stars shining in his eyes. His plate is arranged with a few pieces of smoked pheasant meat, covered in a jus that smells of berries and wine. On the side, a small carrot and cabbage salad with sesame seeds on top; and as well as slices of a spiced golden apple. In quantity, it isn’t that much, but it looks  _ delicious _ . 

As for Linhardt, it seems like he preferred to go with a seafood dish. Colorful pieces of yellowfin tuna sit on a bed of chard leaves, accompanied with clams and various sea vegetables. All the elements swim in a thin layer of clam sauce foam. Caspar feels inadequate again while he stares at the plates for a while, his train of thought broken when Linhardt begins to bring a piece of fish to his mouth. 

Caspar does the same with his own meal, and he  _ swears  _ it’s the tastiest dish he’s ever had in a  _ while _ . It’s so delicious that the two are silent while they eat, enjoying the view of Lake Teutates out of the window. It’s a little foggy outside at this hour, making it almost seem like it’s about to snow. 

“So,” Linhardt starts again after he finishes his food. “To be quite honest with you, I’m still thinking about what happened last night. It’s not often that humans offer their own blood,” he lowers the volume of his voice so that the other guests don’t hear the conversation, but Caspar tenses up anyway. “Well, I’ve always assumed that attacking people was inevitable, because this is what I’ve been taught all my life.”

Caspar has long finished his dish already, and his hands are resting on his knees, fidgeting with his napkin. “Guess you didn’t have to this time,” he mutters awkwardly, gesturing to his own neck, where Linhardt had bitten him. He’s not certain if the mark is still visible; to be honest, he’s been afraid to look. 

“It’s still unbelievable to me that you would be willing to get hurt for my sake,” Linhardt says, and he  _ does  _ look confused; “I usually try to stop thinking about whatever worries me, but my curiosity can’t let this go. You’re a strange one, Caspar, so tell me… did you sacrifice your blood to save the blood of some stranger? I don’t think I understand.” 

Caspar gulps. Sure, there was a little bit of that; he didn’t want anyone to get hurt while he was here and ready to take it. But at the same time, it was his own curiosity, too, that got the best of him. 

“I guess, yeah…” Caspar is a little hesitant to talk as he puts his hands back on the table. “But I also just thought it would be easier to let you have mine rather than let you wander into the streets, where some Agarthan mage or demonic beast could’ve found you. I thought it would be safer for you.” 

Linhardt’s eyes glance at his neck as he thinks. “But what about you? Did you not stop to think for an instant that it wouldn’t be safe for  _ you _ ?”

A silence passes between them, and only the clinking of the silverware, the distant chatter of the other guests can be heard for a few seconds. 

“I didn’t think, no.” Caspar finally breaches through the silence, still making sure that he isn’t heard by others as he talks against the back of his hand. “I just wanted to help you, Linhardt... do you think I shouldn’t have?”

To that question, Linhardt becomes speechless for a few moments. He hums in hesitation, then looks back at Caspar with doleful eyes.

“I…” he catches himself starting a sentence that he doesn’t seem to know how to finish. “I’m still eternally grateful for it. If I must be honest, the hunger was so deep at the time that even hunting on my own would’ve been difficult. Perhaps it would’ve taken a little longer than expected, and yes, perhaps you’re right about the fact that the mages would decide to come for me in my most vulnerable state.”

“Well, I didn’t want this to happen!” Caspar answers with a determined tone, then slightly pulls at his collar to discreetly point at the teeth mark on his neck with the tip of his index finger. “This didn’t even hurt! This is  _ nothing  _ compared to what they would’ve done to you. I know I can be reckless, but…” he slowly puts his collar back in place. “I don’t think I was wrong about this. Even now, I don’t regret it.”

Linhardt seems to reflect on everything Caspar said for a few moments, but it doesn’t look like he doubts him in any way. He parts his lips in a sort of relieved sigh, raising his gaze to look at his friend. 

“You might still be an interesting human to study after all,” he says, “not many would have done what you did for me. But perhaps, rather than study you as a human, I should endeavor to learn a little more about you as a person. You’ve already surprised me many times these past few days, we can’t let this happen too often.” 

“What’s wrong with being full of surprises?” Caspar snickers, and Linhardt laughs with him. He can’t blame Linhardt for dwelling on what happened; after all, he did too, over different aspects of it. At the very least, he’s happy that Linhardt seems to trust him more about the fact that Caspar had  _ wished  _ with his entire being to give his own blood. 

But since Linhardt opened up to him and was so honest, well… maybe Caspar owes him to do the same. 

“I do have a few questions, though…” Caspar whispers awkwardly, and the lack of food to focus on while he talks is a bit unnerving. 

“Hm?” 

“Does getting your blood sucked by a vampire have any sort of… side effects?” Caspar asks as quietly as he can, and he  _ knows  _ that Linhardt is looking at him, but he averts his gaze. 

“Aside from the dizziness afterwards, it shouldn’t—and that dizziness isn’t supposed to last once I heal you.” Linhardt affirms as he shakes his head, then tilts it in curiosity. “Why? Have you been experiencing anything in particular?” 

Many things. Many, many things. Caspar isn’t even sure how he should even say it. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes for a moment, once again avoiding Linhardt’s questioning stare. Ugh, he probably shouldn’t have said anything… but it’s way too late for that now. 

“Uh… dreams?” Caspar utters lowly. “I had a bunch of dreams last night, a lot more than I usually do in a few hours of sleep.”

“Dreams,” Linhardt echoes, putting his finger to his chin. “That’s peculiar indeed. I have no control over what someone sees while they’re sleeping. What kind of dreams were they? Nightmares?”

“Well, no, they um—” Caspar clears his throat, feeling a certain heat rising to his cheeks. “You were there, and you… uh…”

He realizes that he’s spent much too long stuttering, and that Linhardt’s eyes are already widening. Caspar  _ swears _ he caught a hint of warmth on his cheeks, too. 

“Oh,” Linhardt murmurs with a surprised smile. “I’m  _ very  _ flattered.”

“Wait, no, it’s not—” Caspar tries to pick himself back up from an embarrassing, imaginary fall on the pavement. “You were biting me over and over, that was it,” he corrects himself, although he  _ does  _ leave out the part where the two were kissing each other’s necks instead. “Just the same thing you did before we fell asleep. I guess I just kept seeing the scene again and again after that…”

Linhardt’s shoulders lift into a slow shrug. “That’s not supposed to happen  _ because  _ of the biting,” he says, then takes his glass of water in hand. “Could it be that you wanted this to happen again, which is why you dreamt about it so many times?” 

As Linhardt calmly drinks his water, Caspar feels his heart hammering against his ribcage. He bites at the inside of his cheek. Why does Linhardt have to be so right about this? 

“Linhardt… you…” Caspar tries to answer, but clearly, his friend has him all figured out. “You can’t just  _ say  _ stuff like that…”

“Am I wrong?” Linhardt says as he puts his glass down. Caspar has been trying to look away all this time, but as he finally lets his eyes land on Linhardt’s face once more, he notices that he’s not  _ completely  _ indifferent to it all. There’s a pink hue spread across Linhardt’s cheeks, and his hand around his glass is a little tense. “Be honest with me, Caspar. I can handle it.” 

“Okay,” Caspar breathes as he nervously tugs at his collar. All the courage he didn’t know he had for this has built up enough for him to say it. “I really,  _ really  _ liked it when you bit me. I don’t know what you did, but it felt good, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I know giving you my blood everyday would probably be unreasonable, but—” he rubs at the back of his neck. “I can tell that I miss it, and I really don’t know what to do about it.” 

Through his words, Linhardt keeps an expression that shows a mix of emotions; surprise, relief, and something else hidden deep within him that Caspar can’t identify for now. 

“Well then…” Linhardt whispers quietly behind his hand. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable—” Caspar blurts out as he waves his hands in dismissal. 

“I’m not, far from it,” Linhardt finally answers, and his hand lowers to slide across the table and reach for Caspar’s own. Before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined, and Linhardt is rubbing gentle circles with his thumb on the back of Caspar’s hand. “After all, I did all I could to make you feel that way. Kissing your neck, caressing your shoulders—do you  _ really  _ think I do that to everyone I drink blood from?” 

Right, Caspar can’t really imagine that happening. Deep down, he knew that there was definitely something a little more ‘advanced’ to it, but he didn’t think he’d have to bring it up at all. And when Linhardt describes it again, Caspar sees the scene playing out in his thoughts once more—almost as if his mind had recorded it for him to watch again and again.

“You…  _ wanted _ me to feel good?” Caspar utters as he looks to their hands, and he squeezes timidly. 

“Yes,” Linhardt answers with a gentle smile. “I really thought you would have picked up on it.” 

“Listen, Linhardt, I don’t  _ get  _ stuff,” Caspar laughs sheepishly. “But you know… I didn’t think I would like it so much. So thanks for helping me find that out, I guess?”

Linhardt leans in, and Caspar can tell that if that table weren’t in the way, something more could happen in the small space between them. The thought alone lights a flame in the pit of his stomach. 

“It was my pleasure,” Linhardt says, and he shuts his eyes in contentedness. “Hm… should we go home for now?” 

Caspar blinks a few times, unsure if he caught that perfectly well. But it seems like Linhardt is impatient to leave this place, as excited as he was to be here. 

Which isn’t a bad thing. Caspar believes he’d enjoy a bit of privacy for the rest of the evening.

*

The walk home is peaceful for once—no mage or demonic beast around to attack them, and Caspar is thankful for that. He finally lowers his guard when they stand in front of his door, and he quickly unlocks it, letting Linhardt step inside first. 

The words they've exchanged during their time at the restaurant left a trace in Caspar's mind, and now, he stands a bit nervous, yet hopeful. When he turns on the lights and walks to the living room, he's soon stopped by a light tug on his shirt. 

"Caspar," Linhardt whispers as he approaches him, putting his hand around Caspar's own. There's been a sort of electricity between them soon after the truth about how they felt escaped their lips, and Caspar feels it coursing through him, frantically fluttering inside his heart. 

Instead of answering, Caspar turns around to face him. Linhardt's eyes are half-lidded, though it doesn't seem to stem from exhaustion for once. "Do you… need blood again?" Caspar asks as he shudders in anticipation, but to his chagrin, Linhardt shakes his head. 

"I'm not feeling too hungry right now, and I'm afraid I'll become an uncontrollable beast if I have too much," Linhardt explains, "but since you liked having my lips on your neck so much, I can do that for you again—without biting."

Caspar's knees go weak. 

He's never thought himself to be particularly shy, but he doesn't think he's as straightforward as Linhardt is. While he sort of expected this to happen as they arrived home, he certainly wasn't sure how he would react. 

"Only if you want to, of course," Linhardt adds after Caspar's brief silence, then waits for any kind of answer. Meanwhile, Caspar is internally screaming; but he tries to keep calm and to keep looking him in the eyes. 

"Y-Yeah, I'd like that," he utters, and the moment he does, Linhardt takes his hand gently to lead him to the bedroom. He doesn't say a single word; only his gaze speaks for him when they sit on the bed and when he slowly begins to unbutton Caspar's shirt. 

Although, Caspar isn't even sure what his gaze is saying. There's certainly a sort of interested shine in it, something much softer than the way it burns when Linhardt craves blood. 

Linhardt stops unbuttoning Caspar's shirt halfway through, then moves a little closer; his eyes linger unrestrainedly for some time on Caspar's chest, following the curve of his collarbone then taking in the shape of his pectorals. Perhaps now would be a good time to attempt teasing him a little. 

"Hah, like what you see?" Caspar interrupts Linhardt's staring, and before he knows it, he's shoved so that his back rests on the headboard. 

"Yes," Linhardt whispers into his ear, then bends down to mouth at the base of Caspar's neck. 

" _ Oh _ — _ "  _

In the end, teasing Linhardt doesn’t work at all. Caspar is the one with a full-face flush as he cranes his head back. He can’t help but part his lips into a silent whine as soon as he feels Linhardt pressing his mouth into the crook of his neck, kissing him hungrily. 

Caspar doesn't know where to put his hands this time either, instead letting them fall onto the mattress, fingers curling in the sheets. "Fuck, yeah that's good," he whispers between quick breaths, and he can feel Linhardt breathing out in satisfaction against his skin. Every now and then, his sharp fangs brush against him, making Caspar gasp audibly in surprise. 

What riles him up more is the sound of Linhardt humming against his neck, his hisses when he stops himself from plunging his teeth into him again, as if the temptation were maddening. Caspar wants to encourage him to do it, but he doesn't think Linhardt would want to lose control in any way. So he feels satisfied enough with the feeling of his teeth briefly scraping against him. 

Linhardt pulls back all too suddenly, his eyes darkened, although it looks nothing like his hungry state. "What's wrong?" Caspar says, afraid that they went too far—but Linhardt grips the other's wrist in response, pulling it so that Caspar's hand rests on his waist. 

"It's not fair if I'm the only one touching you," Linhardt murmurs, then positions himself closer so that he straddles Caspar's legs. 

"O-Okay," Caspar answers, keeping his hand where Linhardt put it and gently rubbing his thumb against him. He concentrates for a moment on the way Linhardt's body moves against his hand, before his attention shifts back to the feeling of Linhardt licking his neck. 

With his head throwing back slowly to give more room for Linhardt to do what he wants, Caspar catches himself sighing shakily.  _ Fuck _ , it's just a bit of neck kissing, yet it already makes his head spin with want. 

The wonderful things Linhardt does with his mouth and tongue are going to drive him mad. He can't help but let his hand wander; from Linhardt's waist to his hip, then to his back while sliding under his shirt. The warm contact of Caspar's fingers with his slightly arched back causes Linhardt to suck in a sharp breath. 

Emboldened, Linhardt moves to his neck again, kissing and sucking on the skin as if he were going to devour him. Caspar has to wonder if Linhardt knows exactly what it's doing to him; and in order to let him know, he doesn't hold back the deep groan that escapes him.

Caspar can feel Linhardt shivering in response. "Linhardt, hold on a second—" Caspar breathes out hurriedly, and the other man is quickly pulling away, his hair becoming a bit disheveled. 

"What?" He asks, and as Caspar sits up, he mirrors the gesture so that the two are face to face. 

"Let me do it to you too," Caspar says, his eyes focused on Linhardt's neck. He had dreamed about doing this too many times in a single night to not at least  _ ask.  _

"You want to kiss my neck?" Linhardt asks, a little surprised, but Caspar doesn't fail to notice the swell of his chest as he breathes in excitedly. 

"Yeah…" Both of Caspar's hands come to unbutton Linhardt's shirt this time. "Is that okay?" 

Linhardt looks down at the other's hands, and he watches them working on removing his shirt ever so slowly. Soon, Caspar is pulling it down, and Linhardt quickly throws it somewhere into the dimly lit room. "Caspar, it's more than okay," he utters, a deep desire resonating in his voice. "Please."

Caspar wastes no time holding onto his hips, looking deeply into his eyes before tilting Linhadt’s head back with a gentle push of his forehead against his chin. Just like he’s dreamed it, Caspar first kisses the underside of his jaw. 

“Yes…” Linhardt murmurs as he lets his hand rest upon Caspar’s own. Caspar’s heart race just from hearing this, and his lips move down his neck, briefly feeling Linhardt's slow pulse where he kisses. 

He spends a few seconds savoring his reactions, slowly pulling him closer by firmly holding his hips. Caspar concentrates on dragging his lips down to the base of his neck, and in a determined moment, he lets his tongue run across his skin, just like Linhardt did in his dreams. 

To this, Linhardt throws his arms around his neck, holding onto him with a hand on the back of his head as if to prevent him from stopping. Not that Caspar wants to do so in any way. In his embrace, he feels more confident to keep pleasing him like this, and he especially likes when Linhardt leans into him. 

"Caspar." His voice comes in a long, pleased whisper. "Your hands…"

For a split second, Caspar wonders if he's done something wrong. He pulls back slightly, looking up with worry in his eyes. 

"Can you move them a little further down for me?" Linhardt asks, and Caspar can hear his pleading tone, how delightfully soft it is. 

Caspar's heart is most likely about to burst—still, he doesn't want to make him wait. Slowly, he slides his hands down, from Linhardt's hips to his ass. He pulls him closer, then tightens his grip a little. 

Linhardt's body jolts in reaction, then Caspar mouths at his neck again, this time nibbling gently. And in response to that, Linhardt  _ moans _ . 

"Whoa, I—" Caspar immediately pulls back, and Linhardt's disoriented gaze follows him. "I'm sorry!" 

Linhardt swallows down and breathes out a sigh. "Why are you apologizing?" He asks, sounding somewhat disappointed that Caspar had to stop. "That was… a good sound. That felt really good."

"Oh..." Caspar is a little puzzled, but soon enough, the confusion makes way for an amused laugh. 

“What’s funny?” Linhardt asks while raising his eyebrows, shifting so that he’s sitting in Caspar’s lap. The slight twist of his hips as he lowers himself is one that causes Caspar’s breath to hitch in his throat. 

“It’s just kinda ironic that you’re a vampire that likes to be bitten,” he says, brushing a strand of Linhardt’s hair away from his face, watching his hypnotizing blue gaze. 

With a roll of his eyes, Linhardt lets out an endeared sigh. "That should be far from the strangest thing you've seen this week." 

"I guess you're right." The situation makes Caspar chuckle. But his reaction to Linhardt's sounds put a bit of an awkward stop to their activities, so now, he feels a little guilty. 

Linhardt is the one to smile now as he reaches for the back of his own head, tugging at the hairband to let his hair down. The sight is breathtaking, one that Caspar doesn’t want to tear his attention away from. He should be going back to what he was doing just before, but now, he’s focused on Linhardt’s parted lips. They were so soft on his neck. He wonders how they could feel somewhere else… 

"Sorry if this is sudden, Linhardt, but I…" Caspar swallows sharply after wetting his lips. "I kinda… wanna kiss you right now."

One would think that something like this would go without saying after they've spent so much time nearly devouring each other's necks, but Caspar still feels nervous to ask. 

However, Linhardt doesn't seem to want to tease him about that. "Me too," he says, and the next second, Caspar's lips are pressed against Linhardt's own.

Linhardt's arms are quickly back around Caspar's neck, and their chests are flush—like this, they can feel each other's heartbeats, and Caspar can tell that the other's is much faster than it was a few moments before. And with this, he realizes that no matter where Linhardt kisses, it always feels good. 

The space between them is burning with passion, and Caspar can't stay still for long; as soon as he feels Linhardt's lips parting against his own, he pushes his tongue in, breathing feverishly as he meets his fangs. Linhardt is ever so careful with them, however, as he pulls back to lick Caspar's bottom lip with an appreciative hum. 

Driven by his desire, Caspar puts a hand on Linhardt's waist again, then gently turns him around so that he lies on his back. A startled breath travels from his lips to Caspar's own, although it's quickly caught into another heated kiss. 

Caspar's hands release his hips this time, instead tracing the curve of Linhardt's collarbone with his fingers until they slide down, and reach his chest. Here, he stops himself, pulling back to look at his friend's reddened lips and flushed face. Caspar is thankful that he's not the only one to be flustered anymore. 

"Linhardt!" He suddenly exclaims, perhaps a bit too loudly. "I want… I really want to…"

By now, Caspar is fully aware of how hard he’s become. And Linhardt seems to notice as well, if the way his breath hitches is of any indication. The good thing is, he's not the only one in that situation. 

Indeed, he finds himself with his knee gently pushed between Linhardt's legs, and he realizes that the other man is just as riled up as he is. After all of this touching and kissing, it's only natural, but now… 

"Caspar, please," Linhardt urges him with a hand on his chest. "I'm sure, whatever it is you want, I want it too."

Caspar moves to kiss him again, although it's difficult to make it anything but messy. Linhardt, on the other hand, manages to keep enough concentration to reach down and palm Caspar's cock through the fabric of his pants. 

Caspar sucks in a breath. "That's it, fuck... Linhardt, let me touch you too."

"Hnn." Linhardt hums lowly in agreement, then spreads his legs to give Caspar's hand a little more room. He nearly melts at the sight before sliding his hand down, feeling how hard he is as well. 

Linhardt lets out one of the most beautiful sounds Caspar's ever heard. The two of them are much too impatient to wait any longer; soon, they're helping each other to pull their pants and underwear down. Caspar then lies by his side, sliding his arm under Linhardt to pull him closer—and Linhardt wraps his hand around Caspar’s cock, lightly thumbing at the leaking slit. 

As mesmerizing as Linhardt's expression is, Caspar can't allow himself to just  _ look _ . With an eager sigh, Caspar reaches down, working his hand on Linhardt as well. 

And when Linhardt parts his lips to gasp, Caspar closes the distance between their faces to lock him into a kiss once again. 

With Linhardt's tongue on his bottom lip, his hand moving up and down his cock, Caspar feels as though he could lose his mind. He lets his free hand move behind Linhardt's head, his fingers tangling into his silky hair and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He swallows down the moan that escapes Linhardt's mouth when Caspar swipes his thumb across the tip, too. 

“Ah, Caspar,” Linhardt moans against his lips as they part, and he looks so lovely like this, so eager to be played with. “Hold on, give me your hand…”

Caspar is a little confused; he can’t use the hand that’s used to hold him, so he has to stop touching him with the other to bring it a bit higher up. 

Linhardt uses his own free hand to grab Caspar’s own, then brings it to his mouth to suck on his thumb. 

Caspar was already losing his mind when he’d done this the other night while being drunk. But in this context, he feels like he could spend hours watching him rolling his tongue around it, licking it hungrily. 

“Fuck… Linhardt, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs as he allows himself to gently push down Linhardt’s tongue with his finger, and Linhardt doesn’t hesitate to suck on it with a passionate hum. He does so for some time, seeming like he’s greatly enjoying himself, and just looking at him like this sends a jolt of arousal directly to Caspar’s cock.

Linhardt is stroking him still, his hand slick with precum. He then pulls his mouth away to leave Caspar’s thumb and instead lick at his index finger. Caspar once again can’t help but curse under his breath, unable to tear his gaze away from the sensual motion of his lips. 

After some time, Caspar gently withdraws his finger from Linhardt’s mouth, and a small whine resonates in the back of the other man’s throat. He then reaches a little further down, until his index finger is brushing against one of Linhardt’s nipples. 

When he hears no protest from Linhardt, Caspar softly rubs his slick finger against it, then brings his thumb there as well to slightly pinch it. 

“Caspar,  _ Goddess,  _ Caspar—” he pants, his hips bucking up and thrusting into nothing. 

“Does that feel good?” Caspar asks as his chest swells with pride. 

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” Linhardt moans openly, and Caspar is  _ delighted  _ that he’s making him do all these sounds, say all these words. “Please, make me come…”

And Caspar isn’t going to make him wait. He goes back to stroking him, fully concentrating on the up and down movements of his hand for now, accelerating their pace. Linhardt does the same, although it seems difficult to follow his pace, with how lightheaded he’s becoming. After some time, Caspar’s right hand settles into a rhythm that pleases Linhardt enough for him to pant louder and louder. 

“I’m close,” Linhardt utters, his hips shakily pushing up. Caspar makes sure that his own hand doesn’t slow down, drinking up Linhardt’s moans into another open-mouthed kiss. 

Caspar can tell from the sudden quickening of Linhardt’s breathing that he’s on the verge of coming undone. He watches from the corner of his eye the jump in Linhardt’s chest, the clenching of his fingers onto the covers. Linhardt comes with a breathy moan, head craning against the thick pillow, and Caspar can feel something warm dripping down his hand. 

He’s  _ gorgeous _ . So gorgeous that Caspar’s eyes could get lost into the sight; and he can’t help but feel immensely proud that he’s the reason why Linhardt is looking so pretty right now, with hazy eyes and disheveled hair, his lips slick and red from the kisses. 

When Linhardt slowly descends back to reality, his breathing grows quieter, and his eyes flutter open. Caspar looks into them intently, feeling a warmth rushing to his head. 

“Caspar, you’re awfully red,” Linhardt breathes out in exhaustion. “Is everything alright?” 

“Y-Yeah!” Caspar exclaims, and the fact that Linhardt pointed it out makes it even worse. “It’s just… a little hot in here, and all—”

“Hm, yes, a bit,” Linhardt laughs softly, then looks down. Caspar’s cock is pressed against Linhardt’s thigh, precum beading at the tip. His tone instantly changes. 

“Will you let me help you finish?” He asks, and Caspar only then realizes that he’s still painfully hard. He swallows in the sweltering air, then slowly crawls back on top of him. 

“Please…” Caspar says as he buries his head in the crook of Linhardt’s neck, hiding his face in embarrassment. Linhardt gently nuzzles him, sighing contentedly before placing a kiss on his flushed ear. 

Then, he resumes his movements, quickly accelerating while letting his free hand travel around Caspar’s back. Caspar can’t see much in his position, but he can tell by the way Linhardt breathes that he’s smiling as he draws a few desperate moans out of him. Linhardt’s hand is wonderfully skilled; now that Caspar is mostly focused on that, he finds it almost mesmerizing to look down between them and watch Linhardt’s graceful hand circling his cock and stroking up and down. Caspar breathes into Linhardt’s neck again, timidly kissing it once more. 

“Cute,” Linhardt murmurs fondly into his ear, and Caspar’s shoulders jolt in reaction. 

“Hey, don’t make fun of me...” His muffled voice admonishes him, but Linhardt remains unperturbed. 

“I’m not making fun of you,” Linhardt answers while giving a light squeeze around Caspar’s cock, making the other’s knees buckle. “I really like it.” 

Caspar gives up on protesting; just moments ago, he was the one praising Linhardt, but he didn’t expect that Linhardt doing it in return would embarrass him so much. He lets him work his hand on him, faster and faster, while he can’t help but roll his hips into the motion as well. And when Caspar slightly lowers himself, the head rubs against Linhardt’s abdomen. 

The added friction not only feels  _ perfect,  _ it also causes Linhardt to shudder and chew at his own bottom lip. Caspar turns his head slightly to look at him, then gasps when Linhardt quickens his pace once more. 

“Linhardt, babe— fuck, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

It only takes a few more hard strokes before Caspar groans against his neck, the tension in his middle unraveling completely and transforming into a wave of pleasure. His come spills right against Linhardt’s abdomen, and the thick droplets run down along his side as Linhardt lets a pleased sigh drip down his lips. 

Caspar remains there for some time to calm himself down, and lets the heat wash over him. Once he’s done catching his breath, he shifts his position, capturing Linhardt’s lips into a passionate kiss. 

Linhardt’s satisfied hum tickles at Caspar’s lips before they part, and Caspar slowly rolls to his side, taking a few seconds to stare at the ceiling. 

The realization of what they just did finally hits him. 

“Holy shit,” he utters.

“Mm-hm,” Linhardt acknowledges him, then laughs lightly. “We really just did that.” 

“Holy  _ shit, _ ” Caspar repeats in a whisper, and in his daze, he feels Linhardt shifting to his side to kiss Caspar’s cheek affectionately. 

“When you come back to reality, do you think we could go take a shower?” Linhardt asks to catch Caspar’s attention once again. Right, there’s still cum on his middle, and the both of them are complete messes. “I hate to urge you, but I’m honestly quite tired after all this, ‘ _ Babe’ _ .”

Caspar abruptly sits up, ruffling his clean hand through his own hair. “I really— I really called you that, I can’t believe myself,” he rambles, “Linhardt, I’m so sorry, it really was in the heat of the moment and all—”

Linhardt sighs again as he sits up as well, ready to take a long shower. “Really Caspar, what makes you believe that I’m against it?” He asks. “Now, let’s go clean up. It’s getting a bit cold.” 

“Yeah, o-okay!” Caspar stutters, and the two make their way towards the bathroom, where they lock themselves in. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!! disclaimer, i know fuck all about fancy food so any of the stuff described here may not even be that expensive in real life i dont even know!! 
> 
> big thank you to @svnctiis on twitter for making fanart for this fic !! IT LOOKS SO GOOD and im so thankful, you can look at it [HERE](https://twitter.com/svnctiis/status/1226997403489882112)
> 
> I also did some art of vampire Lin if u wanna look at it it's [HERE](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons/status/1229551839378579456)
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons !


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yall!! I'm finally on break from work, I've been chilling a lot but i really wanted to update this :))) so here it is!! More lore and side characters coming up!! 
> 
> cw: blood/injury

When Caspar awakens, it isn’t to the sound of his alarm—thankfully, he doesn’t work today—but rather by the repeated buzzing of his phone. It sounds like he’s been receiving several texts one after the other. Still barely awake, he grumbles, rolling to the side to grab his phone from the nightstand. 

Before unlocking it, he checks the time; it’s eight in the morning. To be fair, he’s usually up at this hour, but he wishes he could’ve slept a little more just this one time. Either way, Ashe isn’t supposed to know that he was up until late, and so he texts him anyway. 

_ >>We really need to talk _

_ >>You know the Blue Lions’ music studio? I was there last night with Dimitri and Dedue, practicing a little, and then there was a noise in the cellar _

_ >>We got down there and there was some kind of giant monster? I guess it looked kind of human, but it was really tall, and its face kept changing shapes, and its claws were really long _

_ >>It tried to attack us!  _

_ >>Something isn’t right in Garreg Mach lately _

Oh  _ shit _ . 

_ Wait what<< _

_ Dude did you kill it?? Are you guys ok?<< _

_ >>I think so?  _

_ >>Well Dimitri took his guitar and. you know what I’ll send you a video in a bit _

_ >>Do you think it could be related to the masked monsters we had to fight the other day? You still haven’t explained to me what that was _

_ Uh<< _

_ I dont really know<< _

_ >>There has to be a reason why this is happening _

_ >>I didnt even know monsters like these existed. Maybe someone is making experiments of some kind? _

Caspar chews on the inside of his lip. He shouldn’t let Ashe speculate for very long—but the thing they saw was most likely a demonic beast like the one Caspar and Linhardt saw in the subway tunnel. But if that’s the case, what was it doing there? Why the music studio of all places? Perhaps it targeted Ashe because of his involvement in the fight against the Agarthan mages the other day, but… none of the mages present that day survived.

Either way, explaining things probably means that he’ll have to reveal that Linhardt is a vampire, and he’s not going to do that unless the man in question is alright with it. He’s not great at thinking up clever responses, so perhaps he might need Linhardt’s help for this…

But Linhardt is looking so peaceful asleep right next to him that Caspar feels bad for having to wake him up. But if he doesn’t reply to his texts soon, he might appear suspicious. Caspar shifts closer to him, then uncovers the side of Linhardt’s face by gently pushing away the few stray strands of hair that had messily fallen in front of his eye. He feels something fluttering in his chest as he remembers what they ended their last evening with—looking at Linhardt now feels… different. Things are definitely going to change between them, and Caspar can’t say he’s not a little nervous for what else is to come. But ignoring that sudden hint of worry, he bends down to kiss his temple.

“Linhardt, wake up,” Caspar whispers, and Linhardt’s eyelids twitch before he stirs awake, obviously displeased by the fact that he already has to open his eyes and deal with the upcoming day. He stretches his arms out, then rubs his eyes.

“What…”

“Sorry to wake you up now, but I think you might wanna read the texts I just got from Ashe,” Caspar says as he brings his phone between them. Linhardt takes the phone after a pause, squinting at the brightness of the screen before he starts reading the texts. 

He doesn’t say a word until he reaches the end of the conversation. 

But all he does after that is put the phone away. “What a dilemma,” he sighs deeply, then rolls to his side to wrap his arm around Caspar instead and curls up against him— 

“Wait, Linhardt!” Caspar exclaims, and as nice as this feels, he knows he can’t laze around for too long. “You can’t go back to sleep now! This is important, what do we do?”

With another tired groan, Linhardt reluctantly lets go of him, then sits up. The sunlight that seeps through the curtains and washes over him makes him look radiant despite his bed head, and Caspar’s stare lingers on him for a little longer than it should. 

“I  _ have  _ been thinking about this for the past few days,” Linhardt begins, “Ashe is stronger than he appears. He fought off the mages with us a few days ago, and got out of it with only a few burns on his hands.”

Caspar takes his phone back in his hand. “Do you think… we should tell him? About you, I mean.”

Linhardt brings a finger to his chin as he thinks. “Well it  _ would  _ be difficult to explain the presence of demonic beasts and Agarthans in Garreg Mach without explaining why they’re here in the first place,” he says, “if we do have to fight them, you and I, well… suffice to say that it won’t be easy. If we want to win, we need powerful allies.”

Caspar scratches his head. “Don’t we have Hubert and your other vampire pals?” 

Linhardt frowns a little, then rubs his forehead as though just the mention of them gave him a headache. “I would hardly call them my ‘pals’, but that’s beside the point. I know that Hubert has been fighting off the Agarthans, and he’s probably not alone—but I doubt he brought a large amount of allies to help him, as it would only serve to cause more chaos. I have a feeling that we’re outnumbered.”

Caspar hums pensively, unsure what to truly do in this situation. Sure, Ashe would probably help them if he learns the truth. But would that be enough…? 

“I guess… if we tell Ashe, we’ll probably have to tell Dimitri and Dedue too, since they saw that monster last night,” Caspar thinks aloud, “but then the professor will learn about it too if we do that. Would that really be alright…?”

As Linhardt pauses to think, Caspar receives another text. This time, there’s a video attached to it. 

_ >>Here it is, sorry it took me a while _

Caspar quickly taps on the play button, and the video immediately opens with a loud roar resonating through the speaker. 

He recognizes the dimly lit cellar of the music studio, where he and his friends go sometimes to hang out late at night. There’s indeed a huge dark and glistening figure taking up a good portion of the screen, its arms flailing around. 

The sounds of the beast are accompanied by panicked breathing around it, and Ashe talking nonsense, with the sound of someone rushing down the stairs nearby. 

_ “What is that, what is that-”  _

_ “Dimitri!” _

After hearing Dedue call his friend’s name, Dimitri appears on screen with his bright blue electric guitar held like an axe, and sure enough, smashes the creature’s head with it.

Ashe screams out of surprise, and the video stops there. 

“Well I certainly don’t want  _ him  _ as an enemy,” Linhardt says with a ghost of a smile. “It almost looks like he’s done that sort of thing before.” 

Caspar shudders. “Yeah, Dimitri is… something else,” he explains briefly, “but anyway, I’m pretty sure he would want to help us out too. And if he does, Dedue and the professor will follow for sure.” He returns to the text screen so that he doesn’t have to look at the monster’s crushed head anymore. “I think we should tell them. Is that okay with you?” 

Linhardt gives a determined nod. “I trust you, so I trust your friends as well, Caspar.” 

_ Okay ill explain but I think its better if we meet up<< _

_ Can we do that at the music studio? Maybe Dimitri and Dedue should come too<< _

_ >>Okay, let’s do that  _

_ >>I’ll call them _

*

After getting ready for the day, Caspar and Linhardt leave together and take the bus instead of the subway, once again. It takes a little longer, but it at least allows Linhardt to doze off a bit, catching up on the hours of sleep he lost. 

Once the two reach the music studio, it seems that Ashe is already waiting outside, hugging himself to alleviate the cold. He seems greatly relieved to see them here, greeting them as if nothing happened, most likely to avoid rousing suspicion within passersby. 

Dedue and Dimitri are already in the studio, and they lead them to the cellar as soon as the door is locked behind them. 

Sure enough, there's a sort of black goo spread across the wooden floor, and Linhardt winces as soon as he sees it. Doesn’t seem to be as bad as blood, but still pretty gross. 

"What did you do with the body?" Caspar asks, and he never thought he would _ever_ have to hear himself say this string of words one day. 

"We took what we could in trash bags and had to burn it down…" Ashe answers, "but we can't seem to get rid of those stains on the floor. I'm dreading what the landlord is going to say when he sees it."

"It isn't important for now," Dimitri says with a pat on his friend's shoulder, but what was meant to be a comforting gesture seems to be hard enough for Ashe to yelp in surprise. "Ashe told us that you two had an explanation for this."

"Yeah, it's going to sound absolutely crazy," Caspar begins with a sheepish laugh. "But the thing is—" 

"I'm a vampire."

As soon as Linhardt blurts out the words, Caspar feels like he's having a heart attack. He turns to his friend, who simply pulls at the corner of his own lips to show his fangs. 

"You're gonna say it just like  _ that _ ?" Caspar asks under the wide-eyed stares of the three other men in the room. The glance that Dedue throws at Dimitri is slightly different, however—perhaps a bit alarmed. 

"Building the suspense not only is a waste of time, but it’s also exhausting," Linhardt sighs, and Caspar supposes he can't argue with that. "Better get straight to the point so we don't get attacked in some random place again."

"Wait, guys," Ashe interrupts, looking a bit panicked. "So Caspar, is Linhardt actually your childhood friend? You knew this all along?" 

Embarrassed to admit that he’s been lying, Caspar’s head sinks a little. "I've just been keeping him safe for some time, but no... we didn't actually know each other before this. Sorry I didn't say anything.”

“It was a secret after all; there’s nothing to apologize for,” Dimitri speaks up, and he looks calm, more than what Caspar expected. It’s a bit strange, but he thinks he prefers it that way. Dimitri doesn’t even seem  _ surprised  _ that Linhardt isn’t fully human. “I’m grateful that you told us,” he adds.

Linhardt, too, seems puzzled by such a composed reaction, but he continues his explanation nonetheless. 

He starts from the moment he arrived in Garreg Mach, talking about the Agarthans that followed him and attacked him multiple times before he found refuge in Caspar's home. Then he explains the presence of demonic beasts, even if the reason why one would find itself in the music studio is still a mystery. Linhardt then talks about the experiments that could be practiced on him if he were to be captured, and that's when Dimitri's expression darkens. 

"These creatures are sickening," he nearly growls as he crosses his arms. "Linhardt, Caspar. You may count on me to help you with fighting them off—I will gladly lend you my strength. I cannot stand the thought of such individuals roaming the streets of Garreg Mach… all for their harmful experiments."

Caspar's tension eases a little; he's glad that Dimitri is agreeing to help them, because he's pretty fucking terrifying when he's angry. "Thank you so much," he says, "Ashe, Dedue, I know this could be dangerous, so I understand if you want to stay away from all this-"

"I will accompany you and Dimitri no matter what," Dedue replies, nodding curtly. 

"I'll fight too," Ashe answers, "just tell us what we need to do, and we'll work together!" 

"You guys are the best," Caspar says, and he could even start feeling a little emotional. 

"I thank you as well." Linhardt bows lightly. "But to be honest, we don't  _ really  _ have a plan for now. We would first need to find their hideout, if they even have one, so we can strike them down all at once. First, I'd like to see if the other vampires who followed me manage to chase them away; in which case, we won't have to bother fighting."

"That would be the most reasonable, but we must be prepared for anything," Dedue adds, to which Linhardt nods. 

"You only need to say the word." Dimitri's voice lowers, and he closes his eyes. There’s something a bit strange about his behavior at the moment, as if he’d been preventing himself from speaking about something for the past few minutes. After a pause, however, his eyes open again, focused on Linhardt, and he smiles. 

"Linhardt, I was curious about you when I first saw you. But it looks like we aren't so different after all—" 

Before he can finish speaking, two small white figures barge into the cellar, flying with panic around the room. Caspar recognizes the two bats they'd seen in the subway; he watches them for the time they fly around them, and after a few seconds, the two white bats nearly collide with the wall before transforming completely. 

It takes a few seconds for them to obtain their humanoid shape—and as soon as their form appears clearly in front of them, Linhardt’s eyes snap wide open, his hands falling to his sides. 

"What are you doing here?!" 

The voice comes from one of the two women sitting against the wall. Both of them have snow-white hair, brighter than Caspar’s ever seen; and their clothes are very peculiar, looking like they came from another era, much like how Linhardt was dressed when he first came to Caspar's house. 

And one of them has a wounded arm. 

"Don't just stand there! Heal me!" She shouts, and Linhardt lets go of his confusion to rush towards her. Kneeling at her side, he starts to focus his healing magic on her arm. 

"What happened, Lysithea?" He asks, and she flinches when he holds her wrist. 

"Isn't it obvious?" She hisses, "Edelgard and I were attacked by dark mages! In broad daylight! And whose fault is that, I wonder?" 

"Calm down Lysithea, getting angry will only make your wounds worse," the other woman says, and Caspar can deduce that  _ she _ ’s Edelgard. "Breathe slowly, and the pain will be over soon."

Lysithea makes a  _ hmph  _ sound, then keeps quiet; as Linhardt takes care of her wound, Edelgard allows herself to tear her gaze away from her to look at the others around the room. When she stands up, Caspar realizes that she’s a very short woman; but her long red dress and her heels do make her look intimidating. Her hair is styled into a side ponytail, which she readjusts after it was disheveled, most likely during their fight. 

"I was not expecting so many people to be here, but I suppose it's much too late to hide anything from you," she says with a defeated sigh. "Which one of you is Caspar?" 

Caspar hesitantly points to himself. "Uh… that's me."

"I see. Hubert told me about you." Caspar instantly feels goosebumps crawling across his skin, as if the room were growing colder. Too many vampires in one place, he assumes. "Although he did not mention any other humans being involved. Linhardt… do you realize what you’ve done?" 

Linhardt doesn't answer, much too focused on his healing magic—but he definitely heard her, if the subtle change in his expression is anything to go by. 

“You’re trying to fight the Agarthans too, right?” Caspar asks, “we thought it’d be good to gather more allies to help you if you need it!”

Edelgard doesn’t seem like she was expecting Caspar to speak in his stead, so when she turns around, her expression is akin to… annoyance. “I had warned him and ordered that he does not drag any innocent humans in this struggle,” she says.

To this, a frown darkens Dimitri’s brow. "He did not  _ drag  _ us," he answers, "we are choosing to help. Not only are we trying to protect him, we are protecting  _ our  _ town as well."

Edelgard scoffs. "He is already allied to  _ us _ , and we do not wish for any more humans to endanger their lives over this matter—it is the responsibility of Adrestia. You may go home, now."

"You—!"

Before Caspar can come up with an answer, Linhardt gets up from where he was, seeming like he's done healing Lysithea's arm. "If you claim to be able to fight off the Agarthans with only a party of three people, then why was Lysithea wounded?" 

" _ What  _ are you implying?!" Lysithea exclaims as she pulls the sleeve of her dress back down. 

"Simply that, no matter how powerful you may be, perhaps they have the advantage in their numbers," Linhardt answers, his tone slightly exasperated. "And it seems like their army only keeps growing. Or were you intending to call for reinforcements?" 

Edelgard frowns. "Indeed, if you were to join the fight, we would have no trouble eradicating them. Have you forgotten that the magic of a half-vampire is enough to destroy ten dark mages at once?” She asks, and Linhardt sighs defeatedly. 

"Speak for yourself.  _ I  _ certainly can't beat ten mages on my own, but if I'm accompanied by Caspar and the others, I'm sure we can beat an army of fifty with our strengths combined," he says, then crosses his arms. "So let's agree to disagree on that."

"Don't you understand that we are trying to save _ you _ as well as Garreg Mach, Linhardt?!" Edelgard answers, her voice resonating through the cellar. "The Agarthans are here for you and you alone. If you would come back to Enbarr and hide from them there, they would be easier to defeat than in this unfamiliar territory—" 

"If you came here to lecture me, you should already know that it won’t work," Linhardt answers as he grits his teeth. "I left Enbarr and came to Garreg Mach for research purposes, and I never intended to come back. If you wish to become allies, I won’t say no; but I  _ refuse _ to go back there, no matter how helpful you are." 

Lysithea gets up to go back to Edelgard's side, and while it seems like she's calmed down a little, Edelgard is now the one whose tone raises.

"Very well, then, Linhardt !" She exclaims, looking him straight in the eyes, authoritative and determined. "We will remain here to defend you and this town from the monsters you’ve led inside—but know that your stubbornness is a threat to all of us. If one of your friends dies to defend you, and the humans turn against us like they did two centuries ago, will you offer your head for their forgiveness?"

"Hey!" Caspar tries to interrupt their arguing, but he almost feels like he doesn't exist right now. 

"I will," Linhardt answers with a strong nod, and a frown heavier than Caspar's ever seen on him. "Now, will that make you _leave me_ _alone_?" 

"You absolute fool! Do you really wish to risk going through what Edelgard and I have—" Lysithea's eyes start to shine with a wrathful light once again, but Edelgard doesn't let her finish before placing her hand on her shoulder. 

"Let’s go, Lysithea, Linhardt has made his point," she says as she turns her back on him. But before she leaves, she glances back at him, eyes piercing across the room. 

"When next we meet, I hope that you will be prepared to die for the humans you adore so much."

And before anyone else can speak up, the two women turn back into their bat form, rushing out of the cellar and into the vast city. 

*

“Well, that was the angriest union I’ve ever witnessed,” Caspar says sheepishly as the two walk back home. Despite how anchored the two parties were in their goals and values, they still somehow managed to agree to fight together. “Now, I’m not really sure how that’ll work. I can’t really gauge how you’re feeling either…”

Linhardt’s expression has been nearly blank ever since they left the music studio, as if the outburst of emotions had been so exhausting that he doesn’t have much left in him for the rest of the day. 

“I assume that it’s still too early to establish a plan of attack; after all, we still have no idea where the Agarthans’ hideout is,” Linhardt explains, “as for how I feel, well… I suppose it’s better if I don’t think about it too much for now. I still despise fighting, so I’m truly not very enthusiastic about all this.”

Caspar rubs the back of his head, humming as he tries to think. Then, he remembers something peculiar and  _ worrying _ that Edelgard had said earlier…

“Say, that thing she mentioned about you having to offer your head for the humans’ forgiveness…” he begins hesitantly, “don’t ever do that, okay? I don’t even know why humans would ever ask for something like that.”

“Oh, that.” Linhardt speaks up nonchalantly as he takes a look around himself when they reach the apartment building where Caspar lives to make sure that no one has followed them. "I only said that so she could leave us be. I don’t think I’ll ever need to do that, really, so you probably shouldn’t worry about it."

And Caspar  _ is  _ going to worry about it. That’s just what he does; he’d never forgive himself if that happened. But no _ , no,  _ it’s not going to happen—he won’t let it. 

“I really don’t get that whole thing,” Caspar grumbles, “you know, their belief that humans would turn against them? Hubert mentioned something weird like that to me too… something about me becoming a threat to Enbarr.”

“Did he now?” Linhardt asks, and he does seem a little more alert now. “I suppose I shouldn’t find that very surprising. He  _ did  _ live through the war that broke out between humans and vampires two centuries ago after all.”

“Yeah—what’s that even about?” Caspar asks as he tries to put together the information he’s learning. The situation is starting to become a lot more complicated than he thought it would be. “I’ve never heard of such a war before.”

“Most humans of today haven’t heard of it; after all, it’s not mentioned in any history books,” Linhardt explains, “a few stray vampires once wandered into a human town and caused chaos for a few days before they were caught and killed. But the humans retaliated, of course… an army of them marched to Adrestia and attacked its capital. They set fire to the city in hopes to eradicate us, and ever since then, Enbarr has never been the same as it once was. The damage done was too great, and some families never recovered their lost power.”

Caspar didn’t expect their conversation to go there at all, but he does realize that he’s never truly asked about what it was like in Enbarr.

“In the past two hundred years, the vampires of Enbarr managed to repopulate the city. I was only a child back then, so my memories are quite foggy, but since Hubert is a full-blooded vampire, he was already around for several centuries before that. It’s probably why he assumed you could become one of  _ those  _ humans.”

“I’d never do that!” Caspar interjects maybe a little too loudly. When he notices the volume of his own voice resonating in the staircase, he forces himself to calm down. “I… didn’t know any of this happened, and I’m sorry.”

Linhardt tilts his head in confusion. “Why are you sorry?” 

“I mean, that humans caused so much harm to you guys,” he says, “how can you even just withstand being with me when you know what we’re capable of…”

If Caspar had been alive back then, would he have joined the fight? Would he have been one of the humans to be so wrong about the nature of vampires? His father would’ve probably sent him there whether he liked it or not. Maybe one of his ancestors was there, too… 

“Oh no, I can tell you’re blaming yourself,” Linhardt quickly interrupts his train of thought. “Listen, Caspar, many years have passed, and times have changed. I believe that the humans of today are much different, and so are the vampires. There’s truly no need to think about that.”

“But still…” Caspar weakly brings his key to his door and finally opens it. “I dunno, if it were the other way around, I don’t really know how I’d…”

“But it’s not the case, is it?” Linhardt interrupts him as he puts his hands on his shoulders once they’re inside the apartment. “Caspar, you’ve done so much to help me. I would never hold a grudge against you for something you had nothing to do with. So please, don’t worry about that.”

“Y-yeah,” Caspar swallows sharply. “I’ll… try not to.” 

Suddenly, Linhardt puts his hand in front of his mouth to yawn. Still exhausted, it seems. “You know, it's very foolish of Edelgard to imagine that I'd ever let you die for me," he says to change the subject, which manages to make Caspar regain a bit of his energy.

“I won’t die, and you won’t either!” He exclaims, “and we’re not alone in this fight anymore—we can do this!”

“I truly appreciate your optimism,” Linhardt says, and at first, Caspar isn’t sure if he’s being sarcastic or not. But the soft smile indicates that he’s completely sincere. “Anyway… I’m still really sleepy right now…” 

“You wanna sleep some more? I might work out a little in the meantime."

Once Linhardt is in the bedroom, he throws himself on the mattress, then puts his hand over his chest and jokingly clutches it. "Careful Caspar, I might fall for you if you keep indulging me like this," he muses, "yes, I'd like to sleep some more. Thank you."

An intense warmth mounts to Caspar's entire face, and his heart jumps in his chest. He's pretty sure that Linhardt was joking just now, but even then, the words were so  _ sudden  _ that he can't help such a strong reaction. Thank the Goddess Linhardt has his eyes closed and  _ doesn't see any of it.  _

"O-Okay," Caspar answers, then rushes out of the room with his face still searing hot. Why does he have to be so flustered by a simple joke—they literally  _ had sex _ just the night before. 

Right. Working out will help in calming him down. 

*

Linhardt doesn't actually fall asleep as soon as Caspar leaves him, he lies in bed for some time, thinking if he actually should've said what he just said. With his face plunged into the pillow, he grumbles a little, blaming the bluntness in his words that he can't seem to fix. 

He's not sure he's actually going to be able to fall asleep with that on his mind, not to mention the exchange with Edelgard from earlier. 

After some time, he hears his phone buzzing - he'd almost forgotten that he had this thing with him. It seems to be another text from that mysterious 'BV' sender. 

_ >>edelgard seems really upset today…  _

_ >>do you know what happened?  _

_ Why would I?<< _

_ >>lysithea said they met up with you… _

_ Who are you? Do you work with Edelgard?<< _

_ >>aah yes I thought this was obvious?? Im sorry  _

_ >>look im not looking for any trouble with you, edelgard even said I didnt need to show myself, but can I ask you something?  _

_ I suppose so<< _

_ >>youre not even a human, yet it looks like you can get along with them without problem _

_ >>you go to parties with them, you go to an opera show with over a hundred of them in the room, and you even live with one!  _

_ >>how do you do it? back when I lived here I couldnt even bring myself to leave my room…  _

Linhardt squints at the screen. 

_ You used to live in Garreg Mach? As a vampire?<< _

_ >>uh _

_ >>im not a vampire  _

_ >>did I forget to tell you that? oh I really did  _

_ A human then? Living in Enbarr with vampires? Now I'm the one with questions on my mind<< _

_ >>arghhh I really shouldnt have brought that up at allllll im STUPID _

_ >>ill stop asking questions now  _

Linhardt still has no idea who this person could be, but hearing that a human willingly left their hometown to live with vampires.. it’s the other way around for him, but he can't help but feel that a certain fellowship could be established between them. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to talk a little more.

_ I want to live with humans because I never asked to be a vampire<< _

_ I hate it. I hate the fighting, the blood, the fact that my parents taught me to kill when I was only a child<< _

_ I'm not cut out for this and I never will be<< _

_ >>but some humans kill too right?  _

_ Some may. But they're never taught to do it like it's a necessity<< _

_ Here in Garreg Mach I don't even have to attack anyone<< _

_ >>oh  _

_ >>but then how do you feed? if its not too personal of a question _

Now he regrets saying  _ so much _ . So far, he only drank Caspar's blood once. But considering how much Caspar liked it, Linhardt is fairly certain that it's going to happen again sooner or later. 

_ It is really personal<< _

_ >>aaaaaggghhh im sorry!!!!  _

He definitely shouldn’t bring that up—if Edelgard or Hubert learn about it, they might forcefully take him away from Garreg Mach, and he’d actually rather die. Which is saying a lot; he’s not one to throw away his life like it’s nothing, but going back to Enbarr would probably be even worse than death. 

And while he may not show much of it, his conversation with Edelgard from earlier did leave him thinking for a bit of time. Or rather, it’s something he’s known for a while already. 

He’s not the type to be overly optimistic about things; sure, he’s been feeling that way a lot more ever since he met Caspar. He has a way of encouraging others that everything will be fine, that Linhardt will be alright in the end. But by nature, Linhardt sees the worst case scenario still being a possibility. At some point, they’ll most likely have to fight the dark mages and other demonic beasts; and if Caspar is ever in danger and the only way that Linhardt can save him is to surrender to the mages for their experiments, perhaps he wouldn’t mind doing so. 

As a rare half-vampire, it was always a risk. If it does eventually happen, at least it won’t be surprising. At least he’ll have  _ tried _ to change his life for the better. The only thing he’ll have a hard time accepting is that he won’t be able to see Caspar anymore…

Thoughts of all possible outcomes haunt him for the rest of the time he should be catching up on sleep. The only somewhat soothing thing around him right now is the constant sound of Caspar running on his treadmill, and Linhardt can even hear the music coming out of his earbuds from where he is. To pass the time, Linhardt hums along, realizing that he may have indulged too long into this peaceful routine, because he doesn’t want it to stop.

After a while, Caspar seems like he’s done, so Linhardt forces himself to get out of the bedroom. He pushes the door open, seeing Caspar standing in the middle of the room, humming along the song as well; after taking a gulp from his water bottle, he notices Linhardt standing there, just staring at him.

“Oh, Linhardt,” he says, and a bright smile appears on his features. Something tugs at the strings of Linhardt’s heart. “How was your nap? Do you feel better?”

Linhardt can’t say he does. He feels even worse than he did before. It’s like all the worries he’s tried to run away from have finally caught up to him, and now he’s tangled in this mess alone. Caspar’s smile wavers when he realizes that he’s not going to reply.

“You don’t look so well,” he says, putting down his bottle and taking a few steps closer. “What’s wrong? Is it because of what happened earlier?” 

Linhardt shakes his head, and the few remaining steps that Caspar has no time to take, Linhardt takes them himself. When he’s face to face with his dear friend, Linhardt wraps his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

“Linhardt, hey…” Caspar’s voice cracks a little, and he mirrors the gesture, gently squeezing him. “If you’re sad about something, you gotta tell me…”

“Thank you.” 

Linhardt swallows sharply as soon as he utters the words. Gently burying his face into the crook of Caspar’s neck, he allows himself to breathe deeply, finding comfort in his presence alone. 

“For what…?” Caspar utters, and Linhardt closes his eyes. 

“If I disappear one day,” Linhardt begins, “let it be known that I’ll always be grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”

Caspar doesn’t answer, but his breath jumps in his throat. Linhardt can feel his friend’s heartbeat against his chest, and  _ oh _ how he wishes his own could sound the same. How he wishes he were born a human, never having to worry about being captured. 

But for now, there are things that simply must be said. 

“And no matter what, Caspar, I’ll never forget you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for ending the chapter like this............................ I hope you liked it anyway lmao
> 
> Big thank you to @svnctiis on twitter again because they made me more vampire lin fanart and its AMAZING!!! you can see it
> 
> [HERE](https://twitter.com/svnctiis/status/1231587213269442560)
> 
> And also big thank you to @__alayyae on twitter because they just posted fanart for this fic too and im losing my mind it LOOKS SO GOOD!! you can see it
> 
> [HERE](https://twitter.com/__alayyae/status/1235288895140528128)
> 
> seriously yall it means so much to me that you like this fic enough to spend time on making fanart!!! It makes me so happy and I love looking at it again everyday <3 
> 
> I'll see yall for the next update! They may be a little less frequent because im still working on the later chapters... but dont worry i definitely intend on finishing this! (I just started writing chapter 12 haha)
> 
> Feel free to follow me on twitter
> 
> [@beelzebumons](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons/)
> 
> !


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to update lmao. I got animal crossing and well. you know the rest
> 
> But hey don't worry im still working on this!! I love my boys way too much to stop
> 
> cw: violence

For the next few seconds, only silence passes between them. Linhardt makes the embrace last as long as he can—because if he's absolutely honest with himself, he's been feeling like these moments can only be fleeting due to his nature. 

He treasures Caspar even more than he thought he did. 

Caspar is still hugging him, although there's tension within him, something that grows stronger by the second. His fingers suddenly clutch the fabric of Linhardt’s shirt, trembling as he pulls back to look at him. 

“Hey, why are you…” he begins, and Linhardt’s calm gaze remains on him. “Why are you being so grim now? We’re gonna get through this together, okay?! I’d never let you disappear, so don’t say stuff like that!”

Warmth comes back to Linhardt's chest, and truly, he'd like to believe Caspar's words without a single doubt. But it's so very difficult, when he's been taught since childhood that danger would follow him anywhere he goes, hovering its hands around his neck. 

"Caspar, I really do appreciate your optimism, but sometimes things don't always go the way we expect them to." The moment Linhardt answers, he catches a glimpse of Caspar's eyes.

They're shiny with tears. 

It's the first time he sees him like that, and now all he wants to do is agree with him and move on just to see him smile again. But it's much too late for that. 

"And if something wrong were to happen," Linhardt starts again after a deep breath, "I just wanted you to know how I feel. It was important to me."

Caspar is about to protest once again, but it seems like reason catches him, as much as he seems to despise it. He wipes at his eyelids with the back of his wrist, then steps closer to Linhardt once more. 

“I… I understand, I think,” he answers with a shaky voice, then clears his throat. “But it’s hard to think about that kind of stuff. And you know, I’ll never forget you either; I don’t know how I could forget someone like you anyway.”

Linhardt takes his hands, and suddenly feels a tremor in his heart—these are quite rare, and usually unpleasant. But this time, it feels like something awakens within him. “Am I truly that special?” He asks with a small laugh.

“Well, yeah!” Caspar grins through his perturbed state. “So when you say stuff like that, it really scares me. Save it for when you’re healing my potentially fatal wounds!” 

Linhardt’s throat tightens suddenly. “ _Goddess,_ Caspar, now you’re the one who’s scaring me,” he mumbles and gives him a playful push on the shoulder. 

“See how that feels?” Caspar rubs his hand against the back of his head sheepishly. “...sorry. Maybe that was a little much.”

Linhardt gives an endeared sigh, walking away to go sit on the couch instead. “Let’s agree to both think about this rationally from now on.” As he speaks, Caspar moves to sit right next to him, turning to his side to face him.

“You know Caspar,” Linhardt starts again as a smile upturns the corners of his lips. “I was always taught to be prepared for the worst, but that doesn't mean I don't believe in you." Then, he lets out a long yawn—right, his thoughts were much too jumbled earlier for him to take a nap. “So do believe in me and my words as well, alright? When I tell you how important you are to me, don’t take it lightly.” 

He doesn’t know how many allusions he can throw in a sentence before Caspar finally addresses what _exactly_ has been blooming between them; perhaps he won’t do so until Linhardt makes the first step. 

“I mean, why would I do that?” Caspar asks with his eyebrows raised. “I know you don’t really joke about this sort of stuff.”

Linhardt tilts his head, offering another fond smile. While Caspar dumbfoundedly stares at him, Linhardt leans his head against his chest. 

“What’s that smile for?” Caspar laughs—and Linhardt listens closely to his heartbeat once more. So warm, so soothing; Linhardt had heard many heartbeats in his life, but this one is unique. It’s… Caspar’s. 

“Nothing,” he answers as his eyes flutter close. “I’m still sleepy. Let me nap on you.”

“Oh— Okay,” Caspar laughs, sounding a little flustered, although he doesn’t protest. Soon, he lets himself lie down on the couch, and Linhardt follows. He lies on him with his ear pressed to his chest, his hand gently resting on Caspar’s own.

And this time, he falls asleep with ease. 

*

For the next few days, going to work frustrates Caspar to no end. 

Things have been calm in the town, _way_ too calm in his opinion. Of course it's a good thing for Linhardt's safety, but this tranquility certainly doesn't explain the restlessness he experiences every single night ever since they met up with Edelgard and Lysithea in the cellar of the music studio. 

Unable to sleep for over four hours per night, his gaze has grown to look similar to Linhardt's in levels of exhaustion. And of course, Linhardt is tired as well, as he always is, but all the more now that it's already been about five days since he hasn't had any blood to drink. 

Caspar had kept on offering his own, only for Linhardt to insist that he needed to wait until he was _desperate_ for it before drinking a single drop. 

After the sixth day, he spends an entire morning with his eyes fully red before Caspar _finally_ convinces him to feed. 

This is how Caspar ends up nearly pinned to the bed, with his vampire friend tightening his grip on his wrists. Linhardt breathes heavily above him, before his mouth moves closer to his neck—but he pulls away in hesitation. 

“What’s wrong?” Caspar asks, and the tension only grows heavier the more he’s forced to wait. “You’ve done it before, Linhardt! I’m ready—”

“Hold on, I—” Linhardt interrupts him as he sits back up, brushing all of his hair over one of his shoulders as if to alleviate the cold sweat on the back of his neck. And when he starts to unbutton his shirt, Caspar’s cheeks flush. “I’m feeling a bit lightheaded…” 

Caspar feels the tension around his wrists loosening, and he puts his hands over Linhardt’s waist. “Do you need some water?” 

Linhardt wipes his brow with the back of his wrist. “No, Caspar, I need _blood_ ,” he says with a light smile before running his free hand over Caspar’s chest. “But… I would love to kiss you beforehand.”

Caspar feels his heart leaping so high it could probably come out of his chest. "Oh."

Linhardt doesn't move any further than this before he gets a permission, but since Caspar is speechless, he decides to continue. "When you think about it, we never addressed what we did the other night. But it’s alright—if you’d like to take things slow, we can simply kiss for the time being. If you want to, of course."

Caspar isn't sure why he hasn’t said anything about it; it’s always been a struggle for him to speak up about… intimacy, and other things of the sort. He supposes he expected Linhardt to do it at some point, even if it’s not really fair. 

“Yeah… of course I want to.” Caspar feels his face growing warmer by the second. He locks their gazes together, and Linhardt lets out a relieved sigh before bending down.

He quickly puts his index finger under Caspar’s chin, tilting his head up; he lightly pushes his thumb against his bottom lip, and before he has the chance to press their lips together, a loud sound resounds from right outside Caspar’s apartment.

Like someone knocking loudly against the door, repeatedly. 

Linhardt sits back up, instantly wary, and Caspar swears he could _scream_ in frustration. " _Ugh_ , forget it, we don’t have to open," Caspar mutters, lightly tugging at Linhardt's shirt. 

But Linhardt doesn’t tear his attention away from the door. If they don't answer, they're probably gonna go away, right…? 

_"Hey, Cas! Open the damn door!"_

"Oh fuck no." Caspar slams his hand over his face as he understands who it is. 

"Who?" 

"It's my _brother_ ," Caspar grimaces before sitting up, grunting at the sound of the man's fists over the wooden door. "Linhardt, I'm so sorry, I gotta open or he's never going to leave me alone. What the hell does he want…"

Linhardt looks at least relieved that it's not someone coming for their throats, but he still doesn't seem too happy that they were bothered _now_. "I'll be there in a sec!" Caspar shouts across the room as he tries to make himself more presentable, and Linhardt does so as well. 

"You can stay in the bedroom if you want. He's probably here to try and get rid of stuff he doesn't want in his home by _selling_ it to me." Caspar’s expression looks absolutely pained as he speaks. 

"What in the…" Linhardt's eyebrows raise, but he nods slowly. "I'll stay here. I don't want to intervene in family matters."

With a nod, Caspar closes the door to the bedroom. He quickly strides to the entrance of his home, unlocks it to open and meet the sight of a man about his size, even more muscular than he is, with a scar on his left cheek. Cedric, his brother, gives a huge grin before barging into Caspar's home. 

"Hey, Cedric," Caspar greets him, although he doesn't hide his annoyed tone. "What do you want? You know I've been kinda busy and all—" 

Cedric is already in the kitchen the next instant, opening the fridge to grab some food without even asking. "Make some space for your dear brother then!" He exclaims, shoving a bunch of grapes in his mouth. "You never visit lately! Mom and Dad were starting to wonder if you got in an accident or somethin'!" 

"Ugh," Caspar puts his hand over his forehead. He can already feel a headache coming on. "Nothing happened, okay? I got my own life, a job, and I don't really have anything to say to any of you."

"Okay, whatever," Cedric answers, throwing his bag on the table and fumbling through it. "At least, I can tell you still live here alone. That's no fun, is it? Don't you think you should go out there and find yourself somebody?" 

Cedric is one of the few people Caspar feels like shutting up whenever he's being asked anything. He's too loud, too proud to ever shut up, and Caspar finds it a real struggle to have a normal conversation with him. He simply sighs in response, until he sees what Cedric is taking out of the bag. 

"Wall clock," Cedric says as he hands the object to him. "You need one, right? I can sell it to you for a thousand gold."

As always. Caspar crosses his arms, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "I don't want it. Just throw it away if you don't need it anymore, I'll even let you use my trash bin if you want."

"Come on, Cas!" Cedric's voice transforms into a yell. "Your job is more stable than mine, and I already spent everything I got this month! You can help your big brother out, right?" 

Before Caspar can answer (not like he truly knows how to, anyway), Cedric is already moving across the room. "Look, I'm sure you don't even have one of these in your bedroom! I'll check for you!" 

Oh no. 

"Wait— no, don't!" Caspar jumps from his spot and slides around the kitchen counter, following his brother; he was _not_ prepared for this. "Cedric, you fucker! Get back here!" 

But the moment he catches up to him, Cedric has already shoved the door open. Out of surprise, he stays stuck in the doorway, staring at the other man sitting on the bed. 

Caspar could pull his own hair out. 

"Whoa, hey…" Cedric goes uncharacteristically quiet. He points to Linhardt, then turns to Caspar. "You were gonna tell me about that, or…?" 

"It's not like you'd ever let me speak, dude!" Caspar yells, throwing an apologetic glance to Linhardt. Linhardt, on the other hand, appears unbothered as he stands up to shake Cedric's hand. 

"Linhardt. Pleased to meet you," Linhardt speaks flatly, not looking pleased at all. Cedric is speechless for a few seconds, but as soon as he's done shaking his hand, he puts a hand on Caspar's back to push him back to the living room. 

"Nice!" He shouts, which is something that Linhardt can definitely hear, and Caspar feels his face going red. "See, I told you you could do it!" 

"Shut up!" Caspar shoves his hand against his brother's face. "Don't be fucking rude to my guest!" 

Linhardt isn't certain he should leave the room for the time being, but hearing Caspar and his brother arguing so loudly in the next room only makes him wish he could fall back asleep. The pleasantly feverish state he was in just moments ago has completely faded; even his hunger is only a background feeling by now.

The two are still arguing about the wall clock that Cedric is trying to sell to him, and Linhardt realizes from the few words he hears that…. Caspar's brother could realize something he shouldn't about Linhardt's nature if he sticks his nose further down things that aren't his business. 

After some time, Linhardt leaves the room, meeting Caspar just outside. It seems like he's wanted to speak to him too. 

"Ugh, Linhardt, I'm so sorry about this," Caspar says with a defeated tone, shaking his head. 

"Caspar, it's okay," Linhardt answers with a gentle smile. "Although, I don't think I should stay here for now. I'm a bit wary of him, if I must be honest."

Caspar crosses his arms, then his gaze falls to the floor. "I don't blame you… but going out is still dangerous, maybe you should just hide here…"

Stealing a glance towards the door, Linhardt hums. "If I remember correctly, Dorothea is your neighbor, right? Maybe she would be willing to welcome me in her home until your brother leaves. What do you think?" 

Caspar scratches his temple. "I guess… I don't think she would have any issue with it. But you gotta keep your phone on you and be real careful when you go out, okay?" 

"Cas!" Cedric shouts from the other room. "Are you coming or not?!" 

Linhardt can tell how aggravated Caspar is by all of this. He'd never thought that he would have such a… _difficult_ relationship with his family. He has to go for now, but before he does so, he distracts Caspar from the unwanted presence by taking his hands in his own and gently pulling him into a kiss. 

Caspar's shoulders relax as he melts from the gesture, and a warmer color returns to his face. Linhardt feels his soft lips welcoming him, and he truly wishes he didn't have to pull away. 

But when he does, he feels his heart awakening just by looking at the affection in Caspar's eyes. 

"Okay, I—" Caspar tries to put his mind back into the situation at hand. "I'll try to get him to leave soon, and I'll text you when it's safe for you to come back. Tell Dorothea I said hi."

"I will," Linhardt says, then grabs one of Caspar's hoodies before heading out. 

It feels strange—Linhardt hasn't walked outside on his own in quite a while, so of course, he has to sharpen his senses to make sure that no one's following him or watching him. He even puts the hood over his head, even if he only needs to walk half a minute to reach the building Dorothea lives in. 

He rings at the door, and is met with her voice through the speaker. "Hello?" 

"Hello Dorothea," Linhardt speaks quietly. "It's me, Linhardt. I've ran into a bit of trouble, is it alright if I come in?" 

A brief silence passes before she answers. "Really?" She asks, her tone surprised. "Yes, come in! Let me open the door for you!" 

"Much appreciated," Linhardt utters, and pushes the door open. 

Now that he's inside the building, he's fairly certain that he's not risking anything. He quickly walks up the stairs and up to the second floor, and ends up in front of Dorothea's door, which is already open as she stands behind the doorway. 

Her eyes are full of worry as she urges him to get in. "What's wrong, Lin? Where's Caspar?" She asks. 

"Still in his home, it's just that his brother came by and…" Linhardt isn't sure at all how to say it. "Let's say that I don't feel very welcome as long as he's there."

"I see," Dorothea says, looking relieved for some reason. "From what I know of Cedric, I understand why you'd feel that way. But make yourself at home, alright? I'll prepare some tea."

Linhardt sits down at the table in the living room; Dorothea's apartment is much different from Caspar's, much tidier, although some of the items in there don't look like they belong to her at all. Like a bow and a quiver of arrows…? 

After some time, Dorothea brings a tray with two cups of what smells like Angelica tea, and a small plate full of sweets. She sets it down on the table and sits with him. 

"Thank you very much," he says, slightly rubbing at his temple. "I don't want to bother you for too long. But Caspar's brother really _is_ a disturbing presence…"

Dorothea laughs lightly, although her smile is compassionate. "It's not your first time meeting him, is it?" She asks. "I assume that, as Caspar's childhood friend, you must've had to deal with Cedric a few times before, right?" 

Oh, right. Linhardt still has to pretend that any of this wasn't a bunch of lies badly thought through. "... Yes, although I feel like it's gotten much worse over the years," he says before bringing his cup to his lips to hide his lying mouth. 

"Hm, that wouldn't surprise me," Dorothea answers before taking a sip of her own tea. "I wonder what his reaction was when he saw you. He probably assumed you were Caspar's boyfriend, didn't he?" 

Linhardt almost spits out his tea. 

He puts his cup down, discreetly wiping his lips with the cloth settled at the side of his cup, now hyper-aware of the lingering sensation of the kiss he shared with Caspar just moments ago. "I suppose so," he answers as he tries to stay composed, but the glint in Dorothea's eyes becomes mischievous. 

"Oh. Looks like he wasn't too far off, right?" She muses, and Linhardt can feel the tea's warmth mounting to his head. 

"I don't really have the energy to pretend you're wrong," Linhardt sighs, giving up on keeping this secret. "We're not… _boyfriends,_ exactly, but we've been growing closer to each other these past few days."

"Oh, I knew it!" Dorothea beams as she brings her hands together excitedly. "At the opera the other day, you held his hand during the show, right? Oh, the look on Caspar's face—I could tell that his heart was about to jump out of his chest!"

Linhardt's lips press into a thin line, and he awkwardly tucks a strand of hair behind his hair. "Really?" 

With a bright smile on her face, Dorothea picks one of the sweets from the plate. "Have you told him how you feel?" She asks. 

How he feels… well, he can’t say he hasn’t _tried_. But there’s still a lot of hesitation clouding in his mind when it comes to what Caspar’s true feelings about him may be. They've already gone much further than what the boundaries of a simple friendship usually allow, but...

"He knows some things, I suppose," he answers with a discreet sigh. "But I enjoy what we have for now. I don't want to ruin it."

Dorothea rolls her eyes. "Come on, Lin. Why would you be ruining it? I mean, you probably drank a bit of his blood already, right?" 

Linhardt opens his mouth before snapping it back shut when he processes what she just said. 

He looks her in the eyes, and Dorothea's expression doesn't change; she's still waiting for a reply. 

" _What_ did you just say?" He asks. 

"Lin, I know you wanted this to be a secret, but I knew it the moment I first saw you," Dorothea explains, and she almost looks sorry for reading through his lies so easily. "It's not that it's obvious, but it’s not the sort of thing I simply _don’t notice_."

Linhardt puts his hand against his forehead, and his headache only grows stronger. "Well, there go all my efforts," he sighs, "so all this time you were only playing along with my lies. I assume you knew I was _not_ actually from Dagda.”

Dorothea giggles. "I didn't want to allow the others to feel suspicious of you. Life as a vampire is probably already difficult as it is. Which is why I've set up this magical barrier around Caspar's home."

With all these revelations coming one after another, Linhardt feels like he's being repeatedly slapped in the face. "You did _what_ now?" 

Dorothea is the only one who finds that amusing. She slowly raises her hand, spreading out her fingers—and a small ball of light appears into her palm. 

"I'm also a mage, much like the Agarthans who are chasing you… but I'm on your side. As soon as I knew that Caspar was hiding a vampire, I used a protective spell onto his home," she explains, then laughs lightly as she extinguishes the magic with a quick spiraling movement of her hand. "Sorry that I haven't said anything about this."

Linhardt sighs in relief. The only mages he's ever known were the Agarthans ones, so he's overjoyed that at least one mage isn't trying to capture him for any sort of experiment. He knew human mages could exist; after all, they have no reason not to. But he didn’t expect them to blend in with regular humans so easily. 

"It's alright, but… does Caspar know anything about this?" Linhardt asks, and Dorothea shakes her head. 

"There are many things that Caspar doesn’t know about me and about the rest of us, but it’s mostly because he’s never asked. Take Hilda, for example. She—" 

Before she can finish her sentence, something loud resonates into the room; shards of glass scatter across the air and onto the floor, letting the cold air in from the glass door that leads to the balcony. 

Linhardt instantly gets up from his seat, his breath stuck in his throat—from where he is, he can't see who's outside, but Dorothea is already pushing him away. "Go hide! Now!" She says, and Linhardt is already stumbling inside a dark closet as Dorothea closes the doors on him. 

"Wait!"

He tries to push his way through, but it seems like Dorothea blocked the door and already went away to fight whoever is trying to get inside. 

With a grunt, Linhardt pulls out his phone from his pocket and immediately texts Caspar. 

_This is bad, someone is attacking Dorothea << _

_I'm stuck in the closet and I can't see what's going on <<_

The moment he sends the second message, he hears the sound of high-heel shoes tapping on the floor, then the voice of a woman. 

"Finally found you!" She says with a sinister laugh. "Well, you're not the half-vampire I’m looking for, but I have a tiny hunch you know where _that one_ is. Me and the other Agarthans are closing in on his location, aren't we?" 

Linhardt feels like he's heard that voice before. A musical yet annoying tone to it, breaching through the darkness like mice wandering in an attic…

Kronya.

He’s had troubles with her before; she’s an Agarthan captain, one who’s directly under the orders of their leader. She’d been tasked multiple times with capturing him, and she’d almost succeeded in doing so, several times. _Almost_. He didn’t think he’d have to meet her again in Garreg Mach… 

Dorothea doesn't answer her question, staying silent for a few instants before Kronya laughs openly.

Linhardt finds a gap between the two closet doors he can look through. It's not much, but now he's able to see Kronya preparing a magic attack between her palms; the violet glow is soon slashed open by an electric spell, instantly dispersed. 

"Oh, and here I was feeling a little bad that I had to attack an innocent human for this," Kronya muses, baring her teeth in a grin. "But you're a human _mage._ Now I don't have to hold back!" 

What follows is a series of blinding lights and fireballs, and even a few poisonous orbs fall to the floor here and there. Linhardt can hear Dorothea struggling to avoid all of her attacks, fighting back with all she has. 

Linhardt had never thought of a plan for this kind of situation. If he stays silent here, Dorothea may be kidnapped by Kronya. If he manages to bust the door open, he has an approximate thirty percent chance of defeating Kronya himself. But she most likely didn't come alone… and he has to think fast, or else… 

Dorothea manages to land a fiery strike at Kronya's collarbone, pushing her against the wall and pinning her there for an instant. Kronya lets out a sharp grunt, and Dorothea takes advantage of her inattention to cast a thunder spell into her legs. 

Linhardt's eyes snap wide open. Dorothea's a lot stronger than she appears! 

And it mustn't be the full scope of her strength, considering she's already holding up the barrier around Caspar's home _at the same time_ … 

As he unsuccessfully attempts to pry the door open again, he can make out the glint of something appearing into Kronya's hand. Something sharp and deadly. 

Before she can use it, however, Dorothea shoves her hand against her throat. 

"I'll kill you," Kronya rasps, before her voice turns into a pained shriek as Dorothea lets the thunder spell course right into her foe's throat. 

Such powerful magic, Dorothea shouldn't be able to use it while keeping the barrier active—

The moment this thought crosses Linhardt's mind, he hears a loud shattering sound; not from Dorothea's apartment, not from the closet, but from outside. 

The room goes silent for a few seconds, before Kronya's shoulders shake with a violent cough, then with maniacal laughter. 

"Heard that sound, you bitch?!" Kronya shouts, spitting blood onto her own clothes. "By focusing all your magic on me, your barrier broke! This was all I needed to know exactly which place you were protecting! Look at that…"

The realization dawns on Linhardt as Kronya struggles to stand up again, and she looks through the window. 

"Right across the street!" She adds, "I have to go pick up the test subject now, but don't worry. I'll definitely come back to kill you!" 

_ >>Are you okay???_

Caspar finally answers his text, but it's too late—Kronya is already jumping out of the window. 

She may not find Linhardt where she's going; after all, it doesn't seem like she's realized that he was hiding here all along. But if she's to find Caspar instead, in a violent bout of frustration, she could very well…

Linhardt feels his blood turning to ice as he once again hits his fist against the door. He gathers all the strength he has in his lungs for Dorothea to hear him. 

"Dorothea! Let me out!" He shouts - it's the first time in years since he's felt the panic gnaw at him this way. 

"She's going to attack him!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger time lmao im sorry (cryingcat.png) but thank you for reading!
> 
> okay thats all the time ive got. i gotta get back to playing animal crossing on my nintendo switch
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter [**@beelzebumons**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons)!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!! I hope yall are still doing well :') tbh my govt just announced that my country will be on lockdown for another month.....maybe i can use this time to finish this fic..........haha..........  
> anyway here we go, this ones a bit shorter than usual but i hope you like it!
> 
> cw: blood/injury, violence

Soon after, Dorothea rushes towards the closet, then shoves the doors aside to let Linhardt out. The moment Linhardt looks through the window, Kronya is already jumping from shadow to shadow, until she's right in front of the building where Caspar lives. 

Linhardt feels panic awakening within his half-dead heart—this time, the tremors are much less pleasant. Before he makes the rash decision of jumping out of the window to follow after her, Caspar  _ finally  _ answers his texts. 

_ >>I managed to kick Cedric out, you ok??  _

"Let's get out of here, Lin!" Dorothea says, then grabs him by the wrist and drags him outside of her apartment before he can reply.

*

Caspar doesn't question Linhardt's texts—if Dorothea's apartment was truly invaded, it means that Linhardt is in danger. He's already darting towards his door to get out, but is stopped by the sound of something shooting through his window, shattering it completely. 

In the living room, a figure gets up from the floor, laughing and smiling without restraint. Caspar had seen that shade of pale violet skin tone and sharp teeth on the Agarthan mages he’s fought before—she’s definitely one of them.

"Finally found his hiding place!” She speaks cheerfully, although there's still something sinister about her tone. "You!” She exclaims while pointing her clawed finger towards Caspar. “Give me the half-vampire."

Caspar finds himself trapped. She doesn't seem to know that Linhardt's isn't hiding here at the moment, but if he goes out to find him instead of facing her, then she'll truly know his position. He said he wouldn't take on Agarthans on his own, but what the hell is he supposed to do here?

When Kronya understands that he's not going to answer so easily, she lets an ugly frown darken her brow. But Caspar doesn't give her time to say anything more—he grabs the baseball bat lying in the corner of the room before rushing towards her, swinging it with all the force he has. 

She bends backwards immediately, dodging the blow with a maniacal laugh. After she places her hands on the floor, she lifts both of her legs and moves them in a half-circle motion to put some distance between them—and she uses the momentum to land a swift kick on Caspar's face. 

He feels his head spinning as he reels back, grunting through his bared teeth. Warm blood starts to drip from his nose and onto his lips. When the heels of Kronya's shoes tap against the floor again, she takes out a dagger and spins it into her hand. 

While Caspar covers his nose and mouth with his hand, a grin spreads across Kronya's features. 

"I know you've been hiding him all this time," she says, "why do you care so much, I wonder? All he'll do eventually is empty your body of its blood, and you’ll die. Let's make a deal, shall we? Just quietly hand him over, and I won't harm you—nor will he." 

“Bullshit…” Caspar utters as he wipes his face with the back of his wrist. “He would never harm me!” 

Annoyed, Kronya lifts her shoulders into a shrug and lets out a deep sigh. “Really, human. Why would you think you’re any different from anyone else?” 

He doesn’t listen—he doesn’t  _ want  _ to listen, because that woman has no idea what she’s talking about. Linhardt has never hurt him, and it won’t happen anytime soon, simply because Linhardt  _ hates  _ hurting people. 

Caspar struggles to keep himself alert despite the strong kick he’s received. He looks down onto his hand, and lets the sight of his own blood set his spirit aflame. 

“Get the fuck out,” he growls, his grip on his baseball bat growing tighter; he doesn’t let her speak again before he swings his weapon towards her one more time, and she dodges. He repeats the movement as he comes closer, and it takes him a few attempts before he manages to land a blow on the side of her face.

As she cries out in pain, blood spills from her lips and down onto the floor. Caspar watches her as her legs wobble for a few seconds—she steps back, then straightens herself to look at him. Before Caspar has any time to react, she jumps up and uses the heel of her shoe to kick him down. 

Kronya has a lot more physical strength than he thought. Caspar lands painfully on his back, and the back of his head nearly hits a chair on the way. Before he can get back up, Kronya presses him down, with her dagger  _ right  _ against his throat. 

"Can't say I didn't warn you," she says, and whenever she speaks, blood falls from her mouth and onto Caspar's clothes. "Tell me where he is or I'll slice your throat open."

Caspar gulps as the ball of his throat dangerously bobs against the dagger. But through it all, he grits his teeth, tasting iron on his tongue. 

"Eat shit," he rasps, knowing well that these could be the last few seconds of his life—yet he laughs, because at least he bought enough time for Linhardt to escape. 

The point of her blade presses slightly into his skin, drawing blood as another, more painful warning. “Several of my soldiers are coming, you know,” she threatens, “I can order them to devour you piece by piece, keep you alive for a bit; that’ll probably make you talk, hm?” 

But Caspar isn’t afraid. 

Originally, he’d thought about Linhardt running away on his own while Caspar fought her off, but he isn’t okay with this. If Linhardt runs away, he’ll follow him. He’ll protect him again, wherever he goes. 

He forgets the dagger against his throat and quickly goes to grab her arm; he manages to twist it and put some distance between the blade and his neck, flipping Kronya to the side. He quickly balls his hand into a fist before punching her right into her abdomen. 

She heaves, but still somehow manages to get up on her trembling legs. Caspar does the same as he prepares another attack, but before he can do anything, a flash of red surges before him. 

Blood gushes out of Kronya’s throat; which spills onto him again, his face and his neck—and he forces himself to shut his eyes. At this point, all that comes out of Kronya's mouth are pained, choked groans. When Caspar dares to open his eyes again, he notices the head of an arrow sticking out from the front of her throat. 

"Who...!" Kronya tries to move away from Caspar, crawling across the floor and coughing up blood all over. When Caspar whirls around, his heart jumps in his chest at the sight right outside his shattered window. 

Petra is riding a wyvern. 

A fucking wyvern. 

And it's not just her. Sitting behind her is another woman he's never seen before, looking rather panicked over the sight of that Agarthan woman. But despite the anxiety in her eyes, she's the one gripping at a silver bow.

"I have amazement, Bernie!" Petra praises her, to which the other woman blushes lightly. "You are having wonderful timing and accuracy!" 

"Petra, what the—" Caspar rushes to the window, almost forgetting about Kronya completely. He takes one last glance at her as she writhes on the ground in desperate attempts at pulling the arrow out of her neck. But it doesn't look like a normal arrow, now that Caspar takes a good look at it. "You knew about all this?!" 

"There is no time for explaining!" She exclaims, and Caspar runs his hand into his disheveled hair—how long has Petra been preparing this arrival?!

"The arrow I shot her with has a silencing spell on it, it's..." the other woman says, stuttering a little. "It won’t kill her, but she won't be able to communicate with her subordinates for now. We really should go, though!"

Caspar shakes his head repeatedly, trying to make sense of it all. "Go  _ where?  _ Where's Linhardt?" He asks, but before he can obtain an answer, Petra's wyvern drifts away to make way for a larger beast of the same kind, except this one is white. 

And another one of his friends is riding it. 

"Claude?!" 

Claude, the person he  _ least  _ expected to meet up with over his window of his apartment on the  _ third floor _ , salutes him with a smile. "Petra's right, Caspar, there's no time to chat!" He says, then gestures behind himself. "So don't worry and get on!" 

How the hell are these people involved in all this? How did they know? Caspar can't help but ask himself a million questions as he looks between the wyvern and the road below. From here, he can't see Dorothea's apartment at all, so he has no idea if she and Linhardt are safe… 

"You will be seeing Linhardt soon," Petra explains, as if she'd read his thoughts. "Please believe us, Caspar!" 

He only needs to think for a few seconds more before a determined frown draws itself on his features, and he climbs up his windowsill, then jumps onto the white wyvern's back. 

The creature lets out a puff of air from its nostrils at the added weight, but it carries them both without complaint, and Caspar looks back into his apartment to watch his enemy crawling across the floor. 

Once they're away from the building, the two wyverns fly higher into the sky, and Caspar shivers when he feels his legs dangling over nothing. He's not particularly afraid of heights, but seeing the city so far below as the wind blows against his face has his heart racing— he’d never experienced anything like this before. He tries to look for Linhardt, but they're much too high up for him to recognize any of the figures in the streets. 

"Claude, I'm glad you helped me, but  _ what  _ is going on?" He asks, and the other man answers with a shrug. 

"I wish I knew," Claude laughs, "honestly, I got here because I was working at the wyvern farm earlier and when Petra and Bernadetta asked to rent one of our girls, I got curious. Petra said I'd understand if I helped her."

From where he is, Caspar can faintly hear the other woman—who he assumes is Bernadetta—giving directions to Petra. 

He'd like to be reassured, but he can't help worrying over Linhardt again. If Petra and Dorothea are working together in this, then perhaps Dorothea took him someplace safe. 

But really… all that Caspar wants now is to see him again, safe and sound. 

All he can do at the moment, however, is let himself be transported by the wyvern to their unknown destination. 

*

Linhardt doesn't think it's a great idea to be standing outside in the middle of the street at this moment, but Dorothea seems determined to wait for whoever she's been talking about. She hasn't really been precise about anything. 

"Dorothea, I appreciate your help, but I really must go and see Caspar," he utters, to which Dorothea shakes her head.

"Caspar already left his apartment, we just need to follow him now," she says, and Linhardt tilts his head in confusion. There's a ton of things he'd like to ask, but his voice is drowned out by the screeches of car tires coming their way. 

Two cars stop in front of them, and for an instant, Linhardt's blood turns to ice. But when the windows rolls down, he recognizes Caspar's friends inside; Dimitri, Byleth, Ashe and Dedue. 

"We're here to help," the professor says when she notices Linhardt's perplexed expression. "All you need to do is get in the second car with Ferdinand and give him directions. We'll follow you."

"Thank you!" Dorothea exclaims, then gestures for Linhardt to move and get to the other car; inside, Ferdinand is in the driver's seat, and the passenger's seat has been left empty for Dorothea. In the back, Linhardt finds himself sitting next to Hilda and another quiet, blue-haired woman he's never met before. 

Wait, no. He’d seen her before, actually… perhaps that strange, clumsy waitress at the restaurant he went to with Caspar the other day? 

But why would she be here? 

Ferdinand seems pleased to help, but at the same time, he looks utterly confused. "Is anyone going to tell me what we’re doing, exactly? Is this going to damage my car in any way?!” 

Dorothea's eyes roll as she sighs in annoyance. "Don't whine, Ferdie. All you need to do is follow the wyverns, got it?" 

"The  _ what? _ " 

While Dorothea urges Ferdinand to ‘ _just_ _shut up and start driving’_ , Linhardt feels a friendly tap on his shoulder, and finds Hilda's bright smile when he turns to her. 

"Hey there, Linhardt!" She muses, and the woman next to her gives a polite but slightly awkward nod in greeting. "You and Caspar got yourself in such a mess, I can't believe they're making me fight some vampires. I really don't think I'll be of any help, but it was reaaaally important to Marianne, so I'm here too!" 

Linhardt keeps his lips slightly parted in surprise. " _ What  _ are you talking about?" 

"There's this girl, I think her name was Bernie?" Hilda starts, raising her gaze as she thinks. "She just asked Petra for help with saving you from Agarthan mages, and then the word just sort of got around, you know?" 

Bernie… Now that Linhardt thinks about it, he may have heard that name before. 

Right, Bernadetta von Varley. He's never truly talked to her, but he's crossed her path multiple times in Enbarr when he still lived there. All he knew back then was that she lived in Edelgard's estate. 

If she's that mysterious 'BV' sender he's been getting messages from, then that means that she's human, as she’d announced out of the blue. He had no idea. 

But in any case, a lot of people ended up being involved in all this. There’s not much he can do now that Ferdinand is starting to drive with a panicked look on his face. Linhardt quickly glances out of the window, and notices that there are indeed two wyverns flying up there, the ones that Ferdinand follows diligently.

He swallows as he realizes that Caspar may be riding one of them. “Where are they going, exactly?” He asks, and Dorothea’s shoulders lift in a light shrug. 

“All that Bernie told Petra was that she would take you two someplace safe,” she answers, “I’m assuming she’s up here, with Petra and Caspar. All of us are here to help you if we meet any other dark mages on the way.”

Linhardt looks behind himself—Dimitri and his friends are still following them in the car right behind. Judging by the paths the wyverns are taking, it looks like they’re trying to move out of the city without flying out of sight for Ferdinand. 

It takes them about a half hour to leave the city, instead driving through the outskirts roads. Garreg Mach is surrounded by large fields and forests, so there aren’t many other cars in sight to witness whatever is going on here. Linhardt does start to get a bit worried when they arrive in a completely rural area, with small cottages and farms, although most of them seem to be abandoned. 

And the sky is growing darker, too. No one in the car has spoken much ever since they left Garreg Mach, so the ride is mostly silent, until they arrive in front of a large mansion in the middle of an empty field. 

It’s almost dilapidated, as if it’d been left like this for years. The wyverns land in the field in front of the mansion, and as Linhardt finally exits the car, he sees Caspar jumping down the beast’s back.

The three other individuals he can see in the distance are Petra, Bernadetta, and Claude. But they hardly matter to him at the moment. The only thing he registers is Caspar’s silhouette approaching at a rapid pace, his voice growing louder the closer he gets.

“Linhardt! You’re safe!” He shouts, and Linhardt has no time to respond before he’s pulled in for a tight hug. 

It’s like his brain shuts down for an instant. Linhardt feels Caspar’s heart racing wildly, his breath steadying as he embraces him as though they were apart for a hundred years. 

“I’m sorry, I never should’ve left you on your own,” Caspar utters as he pulls back only slightly so that he can look into his eyes, “is everything okay? Are you hurt?” 

As the others finally leave their cars, Linhardt is certain he can hear a certain pink-haired woman go ‘aw’ as she looks at the scene playing out before them. It doesn’t seem like Caspar has ever learned to be discreet about things, and at first, Linhardt wants to tell him exactly that; but the voice in his heart convinces him to just accept his worry and care. 

Because… it feels nice.

“I’m fine, Caspar,” Linhardt nods slowly, but the dried blood smeared all over Caspar’s face has him frowning and averting his gaze. “It looks like you took the most damage.”

“Oh, that—” Caspar abashedly hides his mouth and nose behind his hand. “It’s nothing! I’ve definitely had worse!”

A gentle smile tugs at the corners of Linhardt’s lips, and he closes his eyes. “I don’t doubt it. Let’s heal you first, and then we’ll try to figure out why we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

After settling down for a few minutes to allow Linhardt to work his magic on Caspar’s injuries, the rest of the group gradually gathers around them to try and understand what exactly is happening. But truth be told, neither Linhardt nor Caspar have any idea where they are. The only person who  _ does  _ know is a certain archer who’s been very quiet and fidgety ever since they arrived.

“Um…” Bernadetta breaks the silence after some time. “We should probably go inside. The night is going to fall and I really don’t want Hubert to be awake when we get there…” 

“ _ Hubert? _ ” Linhardt echoes somewhat bitterly, helping to wash the blood off Caspar’s face with the water bottle borrowed from Byleth. “Is this Edelgard’s hideout?”

“Well, yes…” she continues as her shoulders sink down. “The Agarthans were planning a huge assault on Garreg Mach to try and find you tonight. I’m not sure why Kronya went ahead, but they seem to have had a change of plans and won’t be attacking tonight anymore. Still, Edelgard wanted to see you two to come up with some strategy for later, but—”

Then, Bernadetta suddenly turns around to look at all the humans who followed them despite not being part of the plan at all. “ _ Who  _ are all of you people?!”

Linhardt can’t help but shiver at the thought. If the Agarthans had gone through with the assault, he can’t imagine what would’ve become of Garreg Mach and its residents. It seems he was wrong about them being unwilling to confront humans; maybe their will to capture him is even  _ stronger  _ than that. 

“ _ What?”  _ Caspar wipes the water off his face. “If they were planning to attack tonight, they probably aren’t far! We gotta go after them!”

“Caspar, we’ve talked about this.” Linhardt gets up and gently tugs at Caspar’s arm to have him stand up as well. “They most likely went back to their hideout for now. If we’re to do anything, we will need a plan.”

“Yeah, I know…” Caspar pouts slightly, preventing himself from arguing any further. Of course, Linhardt would love to be rid of these Agarthan mages, but what he would love more right now is an actual nap. And some of Caspar’s blood. He hasn’t had any in days; all the current events are doing a good enough job distracting him from his hunger, but his powers are extremely weakened as a result.

Although, he doubts he’ll be permitted to get either of those things in Edelgard’s hideout. To think he told her off just a few days ago, and now he’s about to go to her hideout to seek refuge… how hypocritical. But well, it wasn’t his idea, so there’s no need to dwell on it.

The group starts to walk towards the mansion, their shoes making crackling sounds against the dry grass. Linhardt and Caspar remain close to one another for now, gradually looking up the closer they come to the main gate. Once they arrive, Bernadetta pushes the door open and awkwardly announces her arrival. 

“Edelgard, it’s me…” she says, and the light from the outside seeps into the main hall. “And… a bunch of other people.” 

Two figures, seated into a large couch, turn their heads around sharply. Edelgard and Lysithea immediately stand up upon noticing the arrival of all these strangers, letting out a panicked breath. Edelgard’s eyes land on Linhardt first; he gives her the most deadpan look he can muster, while no one dares to take the first step into the hall. 

And instead of explaining herself, Bernadetta scurries away into a shadowy corner of the room. 

“Linhardt,” Edelgard sighs annoyedly, pinching the bridge of her nose until it turns red from the pressure. 

“I told you not to involve any other humans, and here you are, bringing  _ eleven  _ of them into my hideout.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy
> 
> hope you liked this chapter!! take care of yourselves yall and see you next time <3
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter [**@beelzebumons**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you're all doing well! Here's an update :))
> 
> no cw for this chapter! enjoy!

Caspar, Linhardt, and all of their friends who ended up taking them to Edelgard's hideout sit in the main hall of the abandoned mansion, a bit flustered about this turn of events. 

Lysithea and Edelgard find themselves with scowls on their faces, but the expression is mixed with a sort of defeat, as if they'd accepted that it's no use arguing about not involving humans anymore. It's much too late for that. Everyone seems determined to help Caspar and Linhardt to fight against the Agarthans. 

"I— I'm so sorry, Edelgard," Bernadetta stutters as she fidgets nervously. "I wanted to take them away from Garreg Mach but I really didn't think that all these people would follow me!..." 

"It's alright Bernadetta, you haven't done anything wrong," Edelgard answers with a gentle wave of her hand to dismiss her troubles. "There's nothing left to do but to cooperate with you all," she continues, her gaze sweeping across the group. "As long as you know what you're getting into."

While she pauses, the humans stare at each other, and Caspar looks back to Edelgard with a determined gaze; he's known for a while now that all this was dangerous, but he's not going to give up now. 

"We are very close to finding the Agarthans' hideout," Edelgard explains, "we've been searching the underground every single night; there's no doubt that they've built some sort of lair closer to the city in order to hunt you down," she adds as she points to Linhardt. "Once we find it, we shall attack them and wipe them out. It could be extremely dangerous. If anyone is afraid to continue, I ask that you go home immediately."

She doesn't seem surprised when no one reacts negatively. Even Hilda, who usually doesn't ever get involved in such situations, intends to stay. 

"... very well," Edelgard utters, "you may stay here for the night, in case the mages intend to search Garreg Mach once more."

"Wait, wait," Caspar interjects, shaking his head. "If they come to Garreg Mach tonight, why don't we just attack them? They probably don't know we're here, we'd be taking them by surprise!" 

Lysithea, who's been sitting in one of the ornate chairs further away, sighs annoyedly before closing down her book. "Because doing so would _destroy_ Garreg Mach. We have to be cautious about this and remain unseen!" 

Dorothea puts her hands together. "She's right, we don't want to put civilians in danger…" 

Caspar finds it frustrating that they _still_ can't act, but they’re right. Most of all, he's pretty sure Linhardt doesn't want to turn the town into a battlefield. 

The man in question is sitting right beside him. Linhardt doesn't say anything in reaction to Edelgard's words, only leaning his head into his hand as if he were about to fall asleep again. 

"When the night falls, Hubert will go out to look through the underground," Edelgard speaks again as she crosses her arms, then points a finger to Linhardt. "And you will help him with the search."

The words seem to shake Linhardt right awake. " _What?_ " He asks with a pained expression. "Must I really? I doubt I'll be useful, exhausted as I am. I was expecting to be able to rest here."

Edelgard rolls her eyes. "Need I remind you that it is essentially _your_ fault that we're in this situation?" 

"Oh, of course!" Linhardt retorts with a tone full of bitter sarcasm. "It can't _possibly_ be the fault of the Agarthans themselves, how foolish of me."

"Edelgard—" Caspar interrupts their conversation as he leans forward. "Just let me go instead, okay? I don't want to put Linhardt in danger again." 

After a pause, Edelgard frowns. "Do you know how to turn yourself into a bat?" 

"Uh…no, but—" 

"Then you'd only slow Hubert down," she continues as she shakes her head. "My apologies, Caspar. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I'm certain that Linhardt will be fine."

Caspar glances at his friend; Linhardt is rubbing his temples with an exasperated frown on his brow. He had no idea that Linhardt could turn himself into a bat like the others, but now that he thinks about it, it only makes sense. He's not sure he's completely at peace with all this, but it seems like there's no other choice after all. 

"Fine. I'll do what it takes." Linhardt sighs, and Caspar can't help but shift closer to him to gently take his hand. The gesture surprises Linhardt, who looks down at their linked hands, then gazes back up into Caspar's eyes with a soft smile. 

"... ooooookay, anyway," Hilda pipes up, breaking the awkward silence, and Caspar realizes how sappy he was being in front of everyone else just now. "Where are we gonna sleep? No offense, but this place looks _destroyed_. And it’s so dirty—what if there’s a bunch of rats?" 

"There are a few rooms upstairs with beds and couches," Edelgard answers, "and… don't worry about rats. Lysithea has made sure that there wouldn't be any left when we arrived."

Truth be told, Caspar's apartment must be in a pitiful state after his battle against Kronya, so he's not sure he can stay there anymore as long as the windows aren't replaced, at the very least. He's not enthusiastic about having to sleep on some old, dusty couch, but he supposes he's slept in worse places… somehow. 

After the night falls, Edelgard and Lysithea light up the lanterns in the mansion with their fire magic, and the heavy doors to a dark staircase open slowly to reveal the form of Hubert, who apparently just woke up. He's pinching the bridge of his nose as soon as he notices the number of people gathered in the hall. 

Some time passes as Hubert and Linhardt get ready to leave, and Caspar can only watch with worried eyes. He finds himself stepping towards his dear friend, and Linhardt musters a smile. 

"Be careful out there, okay?" Caspar utters, "I'll be waiting for you."

Hubert is waiting at the gate, obviously disgruntled by all of this—but maybe that's his standard expression. Caspar decides to focus only on Linhardt's gaze, the light flutter of his eyelashes. 

"I'll most likely need a _long_ nap once I come back. I'm not used to this much activity," Linhardt affirms with a yawn, his hand covering his mouth. “Hopefully you’ll pick the most comfortable bed so that I can lie down next to you in it.” 

Caspar gasps slightly, but his head feels like it’s overheating, as if smoke were coming out of his ears. 

“...you really are easily flustered,” Linhardt utters with an endeared sigh. 

“I— I know, okay!” Caspar blurts out as he squeezes Linhardt’s hands. “I’m not really used to this stuff…”

A silence passes between them, and Caspar can’t help but avert his eyes for a moment. They land on Hubert who’s waiting with his arms crossed, head shaking in impatience; Caspar knows he’s waiting for them to be done, but...

“I’m going to kiss you now, Caspar, alright?” Linhardt suddenly whispers to him, to which Caspar instantly smiles in pure joy, one he can hardly contain. 

And after he nods, Linhardt pushes his soft lips against his own, entwining their fingers together. 

The moment doesn’t last too long, much to Caspar’s chagrin—but after all, they can’t make Hubert wait any longer. Once they part, Linhardt lets go of his hands, then steps away in the direction of the gate. 

“Rest well, Caspar,” Linhardt says, and while he doesn’t use the actual gesture, it almost feels like he’s blowing a kiss to him. Caspar can only agree with a strong nod, before he’s back to the hall, fingers fidgeting together like some kind of teenager who’s just gotten his first kiss. 

Once he’s outside with Hubert, Linhardt looks up at the starry sky with a deep sigh. His exasperation about having to exert himself at night immediately returns, especially considering he has to turn into a bat—which he _hates_. Perhaps not as much as the sight of blood, but he dislikes it a great deal. 

“You seem to be growing comfortable with the company of humans,” Hubert speaks up, not annoyed nor impressed, just… Hubert-like. 

“I knew this would make you talk,” Linhardt deadpans. “Yes, it’s all thanks to Caspar. I was extremely lucky to find someone like him in Garreg Mach.”

Hubert sighs deeply, but tries to remain polite as he fights the urge to drag his hand across his face. “You’re extremely lucky that this particular human didn’t _kill_ you.” 

“Oh please, you’re too mistrustful of them,” Linhardt grumbles to him, waving his hand in dismissal. “Why do you think all of these people are here to help us?” 

To this, Hubert’s expression grows accepting, although his stare is still rather dark. “...You make a fair point, I suppose,” he mutters. Linhardt feels relieved that he doesn’t have to discuss this with him anymore, because frankly, discussing _anything_ with Hubert is more than a little exhausting.

“We must go at once,” he then adds before turning towards the vast fields. “We have wasted too much time already.” 

In the meantime, Caspar finds himself surrounded by all his friends again, still a little flustered—because they _all_ saw what just happened. 

“You've got it bad, Caspar,” Byleth says before patting him on the shoulder, to which he sinks his head down. 

“Thanks,” he answers ironically, before receiving a pat on his other shoulder, this time from Dorothea. 

"Lysithea and I will remain at the towers to keep communicating with Hubert," Edelgard says as she makes her way out of the hall, "there is a large room upstairs with a fireplace, you might find a use for it. The nights get fairly cold here.” Then, she turns to the archer girl who took them all here. “Come with us, Bernadetta."

Indeed, Caspar can feel himself shivering already. He can only hope there are some types of blankets lying around too… 

Once Edelgard, Lysithea and Bernadetta are away, the odd group climbs up the stone stairs to the second floor. Everything seems at least safe enough to walk on. 

They eventually find the room with the fireplace; it looks like a large library, although all of the books have been taken away from the shelves and are now replaced by dust and cobwebs. 

"This room seems to be large enough for all of us to sleep in, thank goodness…" Ashe timidly speaks up, "I can't say I like the idea of sleeping in an abandoned mansion…"

Right. It'll be quite a lot of people in a single room, but he can understand why some of his friends could get nervous from sleeping alone in such a place. 

The group divides in a few minutes; half of them works on lighting up the fire and dusting off as much as they can, while the other gathers furniture from the other rooms so that everyone can have a somewhat comfortable surface to sleep on. Soon enough, the whole place is reorganized, and the fire burns brightly. 

"I guess we can just… see this as a sort of slumber party," Hilda says, and it doesn't really amuse anyone, except Claude who snickers a little. 

As the room slowly warms up, some decide to get some rest already while others remain awake, occupied by their thoughts. Caspar counts himself among the latter. He's found himself a comfortable enough bed, but all he does for now is sit up and wait. 

Not far away, he can hear people speaking quietly, the five of them sitting on a large bed. He's surprised to see that Hilda is the one doing a lot of the talking, while Dimitri, Dedue, Byleth and Marianne mostly listen. 

Caspar is curious as to why these five would be speaking so discreetly. He slowly moves towards the group, and when Hilda notices his arrival, she waves at him. "Caspar, come sit down!" She beams. 

"Hilda, are you sure this is…" Marianne suddenly shows her worry, but Hilda takes her hand in reassurance. 

"Caspar will eventually find out about the truth, it's no use hiding it anymore," Dimitri says, and now Caspar is _extremely_ curious and confused. 

"Wait, what truth?" He asks as he drags his blanket with him and quickly sits with them. "Guys, don't freak me out like this. Things are already weird as they are right now!" 

"No need to freak out, Caspar, I promise it's fine!" Hilda rolls her eyes. "Okay so, you've never met Marianne, and you're probably wondering why she wanted to come help us so badly."

"Yeah, that's true…" Caspar turns to look at the other, much quieter woman. "It's nice to meet you though!"

"Anyway, it's not just a random whim," Hilda continues, "the truth is… Marianne and I have been living together for a _while_."

Caspar isn't sure where she's going with this, but he decides to show his enthusiasm anyway. "Oh! Congrats—" 

"Caspar, you don't understand," she interrupts him as she squeezes Marianne's hand. "I've been _hiding_ her."

It takes a few seconds for Caspar to register what she said, but when he notices Marianne's deeply troubled expression, everything starts to make sense, bit by bit. 

"Hiding… like what I'm doing with Linhardt?" Caspar asks hesitantly—and Hilda gives a strong nod. 

"Exactly the same." 

How has he not noticed all this time that Hilda was in the same situation as he is? It's true that Marianne doesn't look like the type who likes to go out to parties, but damn, if he'd known about this, he'd probably have asked for advice long ago. 

"So Agarthans are after you too, Marianne?" Caspar asks her directly. "Are you also a…"

"I'm not a… vampire," Marianne gently cuts in as she clutches her brooch. "I'm… um…"

She's obviously reluctant to say it, and Caspar is about to tell her that she doesn't have to reveal something so personal, but she throws a pleading gaze towards Dimitri. 

"...a Lycanthrope," Dimitri answers in her stead, and it seems to lift a heavy weight off her shoulders. "The ones hunting down these creatures aren't Agarthans. Most of them are in fact humans. And…"

"Wait, _wait,_ " Caspar interrupts, "sorry guys, but what's a Lycanthrope?" 

"It's a werewolf," Hilda answers even before he's done asking the question, as if she knew he'd ask exactly that. 

"Oh."

"I've been through the same things that Linhardt is going through," Marianne manages to speak again, although she can't help but avert her eyes, as though ashamed. "So that's why I really wanted to help…"

"I feel the same way," Dimitri starts again, resting his arm on his knee. "After all, I'm of the same kind. I cannot forgive whoever hunts down magical creatures for their test subjects."

A long silence hovers around the group, but Caspar feels like he was just _slapped in the face_. 

"What— Dimitri, you're—" 

A werewolf? 

He's known Dimitri for years now, and only now does he find out that he's a fucking _werewolf?_

"How?" Caspar throws his head into his hands and ruffles his hair. "What the hell? How did I never notice?!" 

"Well, it _was_ a secret," Byleth affirms as she shakes her head. “We couldn’t tell just anyone about it.”

"You knew about this?!" 

"Come on Caspar, he's my husband," she answers, "of course I knew."

All this time he could've just asked for the help he needed...

Well, he supposes it's too late to dwell on it now. He has to be thankful that he has two werewolves on his side, that'll probably help in fighting the dark mages. 

"Okay," Caspar breathes out after a great amount of inner screaming. "Then… thank you guys for your help. I'm sure we'll win this, we have to!"

"The Agarthans are formidable foes," Dedue says, serious as ever. "We must act cautiously. But for now, resting is most important."

"Yeah, I guess…" Caspar remembers just how difficult that’s going to be. "Don't really know if I can sleep properly with all this stuff going on though…"

And it's not that late yet, so Caspar can't say he's tired enough to fall asleep right there. 

"Let's try to at least lie down, even if I agree that this place is _disgusting_ ," Hilda adds as her face scrunches up. 

Eventually, the chattering stops, and the group attempt to find sleep. Caspar is on the old bed, covered in a blanket, and the room has grown slightly warmer thanks to the fireplace. But he can't sleep no matter what. He can't stop thinking about Linhardt—what he's doing, where he is… he would probably know from Edelgard if something went wrong, but it's hard to stop worrying. 

After an hour of tossing and turning, Caspar decides to take a walk around the mansion; better than sitting idly until morning comes. He's pretty sure he's not going to be able to sleep at all anyway. 

The hallways are still lit from the magical torches, showing the way through the vast mansion; but there's nothing really interesting going on, and he sees nobody to talk to. After some time, he finds a narrow stairway from which cold gusts of air come from. 

And there's a hint of light coming from above, too. Caspar curiously steps closer to the stairs, and when he looks up, he realizes it leads to the outside. 

It's probably one of the watchtowers Edelgard was talking about earlier. Maybe if he just climbed up, he could talk to her about all this… he's not sure it's going to be of any help, and he's almost certain she doesn't have anything positive to say about the situation, but it's better than complete silence. 

Caspar mounts up the slippery stairs for a few minutes, watching his step carefully so that he doesn't trip and fall. When he reaches the top, he sees someone sitting on the bench with her eyes closed and her hands on her knees; except it isn't Edelgard, but Lysithea. 

Edelgard is on the other watchtower further away, deeply focused on something that he can't make out. 

"Why are you here?" Lysithea's voice suddenly calls out to him. Now that he truly listens, he realizes that she sounds much younger than Edelgard. 

"Uh… I can't sleep," Caspar explains sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. "I'm just thinking a lot about what could be happening out there."

"Everything seems to be fine for now. They're still searching." 

Lysithea's voice is much less friendly than what he's used to, but somehow, she doesn't seem like a bad person either. She simply sounds… hurried. Like she has no time for conversation, despite her not looking like she's doing anything with her time right now. 

"Well that's… good," he answers, and when his eyes search for someplace to sit, he finds another bench nearby. He takes some time to breathe in the fresh air, something much more appreciated than the dust that continuously falls from the ceiling inside. 

"I'm still a little confused by all this stuff, to be honest," Caspar speaks again as he rests his elbows on his knees. "You guys said that your hometown was always in a state of war. It's really strange that Garreg Mach isn't affected by any of it, I mean… Enbarr's not that far."

Lysithea finally opens her eyes, but still isn't sparing him a glance; she seems more focused on whatever is happening on the horizon. "Adrestia has only been my home for a few years. But the 'war' you're talking about… isn't truly a war. It's more of a constant chaos caused by the natural violence of our species."

Caspar shudders. "I guess that makes sense. No wonder most humans don’t wanna have anything to do with that."

"Obviously," she replies curtly. "Are you… trying to head there? You know it won't amount to anything. You'll just die in a small shack and be devoured by the feral vampires that come out at night."

"Hey, don't be so grim!" Caspar interrupts her with a dismissive wave of his hands. "I was just curious! It's not like I even _know_ how to get there!" 

A small puff of fog comes out of Lysithea's mouth as she breathes out, and Caspar realizes how _cold_ it is. He probably shouldn't stay too long. "I wouldn't get too curious about Enbarr if I were you. It's a dangerous place, and humans should _never_ get involved." 

"Hmm.." He scratches at his head, then hugs himself while trying not to show how cold he is. How can Lysithea even withstand this? 

Oh right. She's a _vampire_. 

"I understand why Linhardt left Enbarr then, if it's so dangerous," Caspar muses as he pulls down the sleeves of his sweater to protect his hands from the icy breeze. "He's made more for sleeping than for fighting," he adds then, with a ghost of a laugh. 

But it seems like his words are the opposite of amusing for Lysithea. The young woman plunges the tower in a cold silence for a few seconds, before she closes her eyes again, making a hand gesture that looks like a sort of communication for Edelgard on the other tower. 

"... his parents are worried sick," she finally utters, with a hint of bitterness in her tone.

Caspar rubs his hands together to warm them up. "You know his parents?" 

"His parents and mentor, professor Hanneman, yes," she explains, "they were the ones who saved me when I was being experimented on by the Agarthans. They helped me reach a more stable state that could allow me to live, even if my lifespan… is much shorter than a normal vampire's." 

Another silence passes between them, and it takes some time for Caspar to put some words together; because hearing something like this, in such a sorrowful yet accepting voice, has his heart clenching. 

"I'm… I'm really sorry about that…"

Suddenly, Lysithea cuts in. "It's fine. I don't know why I'm telling you about this. What I was trying to say was that, whatever Linhardt told you, his parents _didn't_ want him to go to Garreg Mach. They knew some horrible things could come to happen to him, either from the Agarthans or the humans."

Now that he thinks about it, Linhardt had only ever mentioned his parents once. He said something about them 'loosening their grip on him'... it seems like they still care after all. 

"And Professor Hanneman is very close to traveling to Garreg Mach himself to make sure that he's alright, from what I've heard," Lysithea adds, and her voice starts to sound just a little more light-hearted. "When that time comes, you'd better be careful and show how good your intentions are. You don't want him to sit in your home and watch how you act for a full week."

"Yikes, no thank you." Caspar grimaces before getting up from his seat. "Uh… thanks for talking to me, Lysithea. I promise, as soon as you guys find something, I'll help-" 

"Quiet!" 

Her sudden voice has his shoulders tensing up—Caspar is tilting his head to look at her focused face, her furrowed brow, her eyes still locked onto the distant town. 

"They've found it… but no, it can't be…"

*

When Linhardt finally turns himself into a bat in order to search for the Agarthans' hideout, he remembers just how much he hates it and _why_. He almost feels trapped in such a small body, and he still has a difficult time controlling his flight. Every sound feels too loud, every scent too strong; it's overwhelming. 

But they've searched all the fields around Garreg Mach, all the outskirts; none of them has detected a single trace of Agarthan activity underground. As the two turn back into their humanoid form to rest for a few minutes, Linhardt lets out an exhausted sigh. 

"I told you I'd only slow you down," he says, and Hubert isn't listening to him at this point, his teeth simply gritting in frustration. "Let's go back. I haven't had enough blood to drink to spend so much effort."

"No. We must have overlooked something," Hubert states firmly, then begins to walk away through the large expanse of nothing. "And truly, what did you expect? Fresh blood is a source of energy for us. If you are not feeding, it is not surprising that you lack so much vitality.”

Linhardt rolls his eyes as he walks behind him. Using his legs after an hour of flying non-stop is much more difficult than he thought. "I don’t remember asking you to lecture me. Besides… if I have any more, Caspar won't survive it."

After a silent pause, Hubert stops in his tracks. Linhardt believes for an instant that he should regret what he just said. 

"You have… used the human to feed?" Hubert asks bitterly, yet he doesn't look that surprised. "I should've expected as much. I never doubted that you could use hypnotic spells to make anyone bend to your will."

"What?" Linhardt squints in confusion. "You’re mistaken; I did nothing of the sort. Caspar requested that I drink his blood, as reluctant as I was to do it." 

Linhardt catches up to him by the time he's done speaking, and Hubert has an indescribable expression on his face. Something akin to shock, with a little bit of disgust, but also… curiosity?

"... How."

Putting a hand in front of his mouth, Linhardt yawns without restraint. Then, with faked friendliness, he pats Hubert on the shoulder. 

"Maybe you should spend a day or two in Garreg Mach and see for yourself. Humans have some interesting aspects to them." 

With a disgruntled hum, Hubert crosses his arms. "I fail to see how this would matter to me," he answers, and Linhardt simply lifts his shoulders into a shrug. "But you may have just given me an idea."

"Have I? Oh no." 

"Lady Edelgard and I have only searched through a small portion of Garreg Mach; we assumed that there was no way the Agarthans would choose the city itself as their hideout," Hubert explains, "and I still doubt that they would take such risks. But it is the only option left." 

Linhardt's head sinks between his shoulders in defeat. "Ugh. I take it we're not going back just yet."

"Cease your whining and get ready at once." Hubert's cold voice scolds him again, although Linhardt isn't any more intimidated. 

"Fine," he answers. "If Garreg Mach is the only option left, I think I know of a place there we can search first."

*

Flying through Garreg Mach in the middle of the night as a bat certainly is a strange feeling; and while Hubert seems to be more than uncomfortable in an urban area, Linhardt finds himself to feel much safer than he ever did in Enbarr. 

In the end, it's Linhardt who leads Hubert to the place in question. It takes him some time to remember the way there, but when they finally enter through a hole in the roof of Ashe's music studio, they turn back into their original forms, landing in the center of an unlit room full of music instruments. 

"Why do you think that the hideout would be in such a place?" Hubert grumbles as he untangles the cables he fell across to free himself. "Linhardt, if this is another one of your jokes—" 

"Do you really think I would go through the trouble of taking us even further away from Edelgard's hideout just to inconvenience you?" Linhardt asks, standing back up and walking to a nearby door. "Hubert, do you have any idea how much I’d like to be asleep right now?"

Once Hubert is on his feet, he adjusts his black vest and fixes his hair. "I am aware, now let’s move on. What makes you believe that the Agarthans are nearby?" 

To this, Linhardt pushes the door open, and looks at the staircase that leads to the cellar. He leads Hubert downstairs to find the dusty room with the large black stain on the floor. 

"Caspar and I came here recently, right after a demonic beast had entered this room," Linhardt explains, "that beast showed itself in front of Caspar's friends, and they took care of it themselves. But how do you think it got in?" 

Hubert puts a finger to his chin and hums pensively. "It couldn't have gotten in from the outside. Surely the humans would've noticed it more easily."

Linhardt nods. "I think that it wasn't meant to be here at all. Perhaps there's a 'leak' in the Agarthans' hideout that the monster escaped from, and it would mean that it's somehow linked to this place…"

As he pushes around some of the cardboard boxes and furniture to have a better look at the floor, he finally finds it; a hidden hole in the floor, through which a demonic beast could pass through if it turned itself temporarily into sludge. 

And now that the hole in the floor is uncovered, Linhardt _does_ sense a dark energy seeping through it. Something that has his teeth clenching slightly. Now that he’s certain of the exactness of his theory, he wishes he could leave this place and go back to Caspar already. But it’s no use even suggesting that to Hubert, who’s already transforming back into his bat form and jumping down the hole.

With a sigh, Linhardt does the same. 

He follows Hubert through an underground cavern; it’s empty and humid, completely unlit; if a human were to go through here, they wouldn’t be able to see the walls. Linhardt can tell Hubert is already sending telepathic messages to Edelgard the further they move through the tunnel, but so far, nothing about it is very recognizable. It’s only surprising that something like this exists beneath Garreg Mach itself… 

But as they move forth, the surroundings change. The walls that were once only made of rocks are now smoother and darker. Some lines of neon blue show through the stone and finally light up the way, forming something that resembles circuits in the wall. Pillars of stone and light stand along the path, and Linhardt can feel his heart pounding into his chest. 

He’s never seen anything like this before, but Hubert seems to know what these structures are. His flight is increasingly jittery the closer they get to a strange source of light; when Linhardt takes his next breath, he and Hubert stop in front of a giant gate. 

The gate seems like it’s made of a material so thick that it would never budge if someone tried to break it down. It’s covered in lines of blue light, just like the walls surrounding them when they came in, and of course, some dense, dark energy is surrounding the whole area. 

_This looks exactly like Shambhala_. Linhardt can hear Hubert’s thoughts this time; being a half-vampire, he can receive them, but he can’t send any of his own. So it’s no surprise to Hubert when he doesn’t answer. 

_We’ve found it_ , Hubert continues, _I will warn Lady Edelgard. Let us leave this place immediately_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it! next chapter is a spicy one hehe....
> 
> Check this out!! @svnctiis on twitter made some art for chapter 9 and its GREAT!! you can see it [**here**](https://twitter.com/svnctiis/status/1244393510163353601)!
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter [**@beelzebumons**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons)!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you're all doing well! Here's an update :) This one is just full of spice. Hope you like it!
> 
> cw: 85% of this chapter has explicit sexual content + biting

The morning after, Caspar and Linhardt finally return to Garreg Mach. The two find themselves sitting in the back of Dimitri’s car as he drives them back there along with Ashe, and Byleth who sits in the passenger seat. Caspar can't say he's had a great night, so he can't help but doze off in the car every now and then. 

After Linhardt had returned from his search with Hubert of the Agarthans' hideout, he'd fallen asleep immediately on the bed where Caspar was; but the dust, the hard mattress, the old blanket all made their night more than a little uncomfortable. And after their night, they’d established a plan with Edelgard to attack the Agarthans’ hideout in a few days.

Caspar isn’t really into silent rides. But he doesn’t think he should make any more sound than he needs to when he feels Linhardt’s head bumping against his shoulder as he falls asleep, his energy completely drained. Ashe does try to make a conversation every now and then, but whatever subject comes up dies down as soon as they’ve spoken a few words. All of them are  _ exhausted _ . 

"By the way, Caspar," Dimitri speaks up as he looks at him through the rear view mirror. "I heard that you had a fight with one of the mages at your place. Is it still possible for you to sleep there? If not, you can come to my place."

Right. His apartment isn't fully destroyed, but a lot of things are broken, including the windows. Not only that, but the Agarthans probably know exactly where he lives now... 

"I appreciate it, but we'll be fine," Caspar answers, "my uncle runs a hotel in the city, I'm pretty sure we'll be able to get a cheap room, at least until we get rid of the Agarthans."

"I see…" 

"Oh, but can you take us to some kind of grocery store before that?" Caspar asks when the emptiness of his stomach makes itself known with a sharp pang of pain. "If I don't eat something, I'm gonna pass out."

Thankfully, they're close enough to the town that it only takes a few minutes for them to arrive. Linhardt begrudgingly wakes up to come to the store with Caspar, where they buy a few things to eat during the day. Once they're done, Dimitri drives them to the hotel, where they meet up with Randolph, Caspar's uncle. 

"Yeah, you can have a room for sure," Randolph says once Caspar is done with his explanations. He lies by pretending that he was robbed instead, because he's not sure he wants to involve him in all this mess. "I'm sorry all that stuff happened to you, Cas. You know you can always come to me for help."

"Thanks," Caspar utters sheepishly, "I promise we'll only stay a few days. We didn't sleep a lot last night, so…"

"Yeah, you look exhausted," Randolph snickers as he holds out the key. "Double, right?" 

Caspar feels his face growing a little hot when he looks back at Linhardt, who almost looks like he's sleeping while standing up. He hesitates for a moment before shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Uh, single actually," he says, and Randolph closes his hand around the key before giving him a knowing smile. 

"You got it." He puts the key back before handing him another. "It's on the third floor. You guys go get some rest, alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah," Caspar answers sheepishly, and he gently bumps Linhardt's arm with his elbow to have him follow along. They climb up the stairs until they reach the third floor, and as they arrive in front of their room, Linhardt lazily wraps his arms around his waist.

"You're really cute, you know that?" He murmurs, and Caspar instantly feels like his cheeks are going to burn. 

"Sh—Shut up…" Caspar whispers to him as he quickly opens the door. "That was my uncle back there, so it's kinda embarrassing…"

Linhardt laughs lightly as he lets go of him, immediately throwing himself onto the queen bed in the room. 

"You're gonna sleep?" Caspar asks after closing the door behind himself.

"Yes," Linhardt mutters with his mouth pressed onto the pillow. Truth be told, his answer isn’t all that surprising. "M'really tired…"

Caspar finds himself swaying a little; he can’t say he doesn’t feel the same way at the moment. "Yeah, me too. Those beds in the mansion were so shitty," he jokes, but Linhardt is so fatigued that all he does is blink at him in acknowledgement. 

"I'm gonna shower and then I'll probably take a nap too," Caspar says. 

"I'll go after you," Linhardt answers, "don't make me wait… too long…" 

Caspar is about to reply to this, but quickly realizes that his friend has fallen asleep before he could completely finish his sentence.  _ It's almost cute,  _ he thinks to himself with an endeared grin. 

Who is he kidding? It's  _ super  _ cute. 

It's indeed very difficult to take a shower while on what feels like ten layers of exhaustion. He somehow manages, feeling like he's finally washed off all the dust from that dirty mansion. Once he's done drying himself off, he returns to the room half-naked, then drops himself onto the bed like a dead weight. Linhardt is still deeply asleep, hair splayed out messily across the pillow, with a strand straying to the corner of his lips. 

Caspar reaches for it to push it out of his face, but when his hand ends up cupping his cheek, Linhardt's lips part to let out a few murmured words, while he's still asleep.

"...want to be with you…" 

Caspar feels his heart filling with an emotion he's unable to describe yet—all he knows is that it feels good, warm, soothing. He's almost too tired to process it, but the words repeat in his head again and again like a lullaby, a gentle whisper that allows him to drift away to sleep. 

He doesn't know how much time passes before he wakes up; but when he opens his eyes again, Linhardt's isn't on the bed anymore, and he can hear the sound of running water from the bathroom. He’s probably in the shower. 

Caspar sits up and puts his hair back in shape, stretching his arms out. His energy isn't fully back just yet; but considering he's going out to attack the Agarthans' hideout in a few days, he should try to train a little. He can’t say if he’ll be as lucky as he was in his fight against Kronya when he got away with just a few scrapes and bruises. 

His nose still hurts a little when he touches it, but the pain isn't nearly as sharp as it should be, thanks to Linhardt's healing magic. 

He waits a little and passes the time by scrolling through social media on his phone; usually, people like Hilda, Dorothea and Ashe are very active there, but none of them have posted anything since yesterday. 

The moment he locks his phone again, the sound of the water stops. 

It takes some time for Linhardt to dry off, especially when it comes to his hair—so it's actually still damp when he comes out of the room, half-naked as well, and his eyes… are red as rubies.

"Oh." Caspar focuses his gaze on him for a moment. "You're hungry, aren't you?" 

Linhardt, who doesn't seem like he was aware that his eyes showed so much of what he felt at the moment, blinks quickly as if it were going to change anything. He clears his throat in embarrassment. "I was certain that my eyes looked normal before I left the bathroom... they probably turned as soon as I saw you." 

So overwhelmingly blunt, once again—Caspar can't help but stammer. "Do I really have that much of an effect on you?" He asks, half-jokingly, half-curiously, because being the subject of a vampire's interest is still very new to him. 

"Yes," Linhardt answers like it's the most natural thing. "Caspar, would you mind if I drank a bit of your blood once again?" 

Right, it’s been a few days since Linhardt hasn’t had any blood; yesterday, they were interrupted by Caspar’s dumbass brother. The past few hours must’ve been hard for Linhardt, who couldn’t simply ask to have some blood in front of everyone. 

The first time that happened between them, Caspar had been the one to convince him to drink his blood. So the fact that Linhardt is the one asking for it today is even more exciting; the knowledge that he's satisfying enough for his tastes, that Linhardt loves his blood that much… 

It's probably a bit weird to be proud of that sort of thing, Caspar realizes. But he doesn't want to think about it too much, because right now, just the sight of Linhardt's fangs slightly showing from between his lips is enough to have his heart leaping out of his chest. 

"I'd love that," Caspar says, and there's a hint of desperation in his voice that he tries to hold back, to no avail. 

Linhardt lets out a relieved breath before stepping closer; Caspar is about to lie down, but Linhardt keeps him on the edge of the bed by sitting down on his lap. 

"Um..." Caspar ends up flustered once again as Linhardt's hands come to rest on his shoulders, thumbs lightly tracing his collarbone. "Wait, if you sit like this while drinking my blood, I might… get excited."

Puzzled, Linhardt raises his eyebrows. The color in his eyes shifts to something darker, as if a wave of ink traversed it for an instant. "Is it truly a problem?" He whispers in his ear, then puts a finger under Caspar's chin to tilt his head back. "I'm a little excited myself, to tell you the truth."

"Oh." Caspar lets out a surprised sound, and there's a shiver suddenly spreading across his neck as Linhardt gazes at it intently. "If you don’t mind, then..."

“Caspar, please.” Linhardt sighs impatiently against his skin. Caspar allows himself to put his hands on his hips, holding firmly as Linhardt suddenly mouths at his neck. 

It's just as enticing as it was the last time; maybe even more so, now that Caspar knows exactly what to expect. There's even a little more eagerness in Linhardt's movements now, as if he couldn't wait to taste him again. Still, he remains as gentle as he can, taking his time to kiss the underside of his jaw. 

Caspar breathes in sharply when he finally feels his fangs, and when they plunge into him, it's a little less painful than last time, but all the more pleasurable. Linhardt holds him tightly through it, sucking on his skin with a groan after swallowing the first gulp. 

"Linhardt…" Caspar breathes heavily, letting his hands wander down and caress his lower back. "Fuck, that feels so good…" 

Caspar can almost  _ feel  _ Linhardt smiling against him, but all he lets out is a satisfied hum. The warmth of his own blood dripping down his neck is almost maddening, almost  _ too much _ —but as Caspar weakens a little, Linhardt pulls away, healing the wound in an instant. 

With half-lidded eyes, Linhardt focuses on him. "Are you alright?" He asks, a little concerned by Caspar's unfocused gaze. 

Thankfully, his dizziness doesn't last long. He nods slowly, eyes fluttering open as he wears a content smile. "Yeah…" he murmurs, "do I taste as good as last time?" 

Linhardt hums positively in response, adjusting himself on Caspar's lap—the motion causes the both of them to realize that they're already hard. 

"I want to taste more of you," Linhardt utters with an eager sigh, and before Caspar can respond, their lips are locked together in a passionate kiss. 

Caspar reacts with a low hum, hands running across Linhardt's back and a little lower—he stops there, unsure if he should move them again, but Linhardt reaches back to pull his hands down and allow him to grab his ass. 

Despite the fact that Linhardt expected the sensation, he lets out a surprised yet pleased moan. Caspar gently pushes his tongue past his lips as soon as Linhardt opens his mouth to breathe, and he's once again rewarded with a pretty whine. 

Linhardt eagerly leans closer against him, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding the back of his head with a hand. "Caspar," he whispers in between kisses, before Caspar pulls back a little with a slight nibble on his bottom lip. 

" _ Caspar, _ " he breathes, before lightly tugging his hair. "Can I suck you off?" 

The words strike him right here and there, and he chokes back an incoherent sound. 

"You— uh—" 

Linhardt looks him in the eyes, and while he said that in the bluntest way possible, he still looks a little flustered. Caspar, on the other hand, is a  _ mess _ . 

"I'd really like to get on my knees and suck you off," Linhardt repeats in a whisper as one of his hands reaches down to play with the buckle of Caspar's belt. "Would you like that?" 

"Okay, I definitely heard that right," Caspar mutters to himself, and he's certain that Linhardt's gaze alone is going to make him melt. "I… yeah, I’d really like that. I’m all yours, Linhardt."

Once Linhardt has his permission, he immediately unbuckles Caspar's belt and unbuttons his pants. "It’s fascinating how cute you get when I say things like that. I’ll remember to do it more often."

"Hey, don’t treat this like another study about humans..." 

Linhardt laughs lightly before he leans in to kiss him one more time. “No matter what my current research focuses on, I always want to learn more about  _ you _ ,” he murmurs, then gets off the bed to sink to his knees. Caspar almost can’t process what’s exactly happening; all he knows is that Linhardt is impatiently pulling his pants down, letting his gaze linger on the bulge in Caspar’s underwear for a few instants. Caspar is almost embarrassed at how excited he is already, but Linhardt seems to enjoy the sight greatly, if the way he wets his lips is anything to go by. 

He gently hooks his finger under the string of Caspar’s underwear, then pulls it down to reveal his cock. The fact alone that Linhardt’s mouth is so close to it is enough for Caspar to hold back a groan—he can’t help but sink his teeth into his bottom lip as Linhardt slowly wraps his fingers around it, then gives a first stroke.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I touched you for the first time,” Linhardt whispers, and his words send a jolt of arousal through Caspar’s entire body. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about it.”

“A—Ah, really?” Caspar stutters, shoving his hand in front of his mouth to cover how obscene he sounds right now. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined Linhardt with his mouth on his cock a few times _ ,  _ and he supposes he doesn’t  _ have  _ to say it, but he’d really like to be as honest as Linhardt is. 

“Yeah, me too, I…” Caspar mutters into his hand. “I thought about it a lot…”

“You have?” Linhardt whispers with his gaze raised up. He looks surprised, although it only lasts a few seconds before he relaxes his position again and brushes his hair away from his face. “Caspar, please, I want you to keep talking to me like this. Tell me what you like, alright?”

Caspar’s hands are at his sides, fingers clutching the sheets in eagerness. “Alright,” he answers, and soon enough, Linhardt bends down to experimentally kiss the base of his cock. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Caspar breathes, instinctively letting one of his hands reach for the side of Linhardt’s head and brush his hair back. Linhardt lets out an appreciative hum as he drags his lips across the shaft, keeping his hand on the base—Caspar watches him part his lips for just a second, then close them around the head and suck lightly. 

“Linhardt—” The sensation almost takes him by surprise. He leans back slightly, then looks down at the pretty sight between his legs; Linhardt is settling further between his thighs, face flushed and slick lips leaving him and hanging open for an instant before he lets out his tongue and rolls it around the tip ever so slowly. 

Caspar is already a mess. He’s not even sure how Linhardt expects him to  _ talk _ while he’s already trying so hard not to thrust his hips up into his mouth. But eventually, he finds that the words come out instinctively when he thinks about how good Linhardt is making him feel right now. 

“So good,” he groans, and Linhardt raises his gaze to look at him. “Hm… do that again, babe…”

With excitement flashing across his eyes, Linhardt doesn’t make him wait too long. He swirls his tongue around him once again, then puts the head into his mouth and hums around it. Caspar finds himself throwing his head back as soon as he feels the warmth of Linhardt’s mouth around him. Linhardt eagerly tastes him, eyes nearly shining with delight; Caspar could hide his face in embarrassment. But he’s much too mesmerized by Linhardt’s satisfied expression to bother having any shame.

Linhardt pulls back again, and there’s a string of saliva connecting his tongue to the tip of Caspar’s cock, something that Caspar watches intently for a few seconds. “You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers hoarsely before Linhardt quickly wipes at his bottom lip with his index finger, a glint of pride warming his cheeks. He looks much too pleased with himself to make Caspar wait any longer. Soon, he brings his lips to him again, this time taking him deeper into his mouth. 

Caspar’s hand drifts from the side of Linhardt’s face to the back of his head, although he doesn’t push down, just keeps it there and cards his fingers through his hair. Linhardt finally starts to bob his head up and down in a slow rhythm, and Caspar has to stifle his groans; it feels good, way too good. And judging by the way Linhardt hums and licks around him, he’s enjoying this just as much. Every time Linhardt moves down, he goes deeper, and deeper—he doesn’t manage to take all of Caspar into his mouth, but Caspar  _ does _ feel his tip briefly rubbing against the back of Linhardt’s throat, which makes him unable to hold back his voice. 

A rather loud moan escapes his lips as Linhardt goes back to this steady pace, stroking what his mouth can’t reach with his hand. Caspar hears him hum happily, as if he’d earned what he wanted, but he doesn’t stop there. After pulling off to breathe deeply, he angles his head, then kisses the side of Caspar’s cock. It twitches against his lips as a bit of precum leaks from the tip, and Linhardt presses his thumb onto it then drags his hand down to slick up the shaft. Caspar can do nothing but watch, hypnotized by it all as Linhardt licks him from base to tip before taking him into his mouth again. 

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” Caspar groans, and the accidental tug on Linhardt’s hair causes him to whimper. Linhardt’s knees are trembling at this point, but he’s still very much eager to make Caspar a complete mess. Caspar feels a heat mounting to his head before Linhardt suddenly pulls back again with a loud pop, leaving his cock slick with spit and precum, then sighs contentedly before placing a last kiss on the head.

Instead of coming back to it, Linhardt stands up again. He uses the cleanest hand he has to untie the ribbon around his hair and let it down. Caspar watches him do each graceful movement like there’s nothing more beautiful in the universe—and he’s pretty sure it’s exactly the case—then breathes out instead of muttering the incoherent string of words that was on his tongue.

Linhardt bends down to suddenly capture Caspar’s lips into a hungry kiss, and Caspar can taste himself on his tongue, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. He lets himself be pushed down onto the bed until Linhardt is above him, cupping his jaw with one hand and caressing Caspar’s cock with the other. In the meantime, Caspar uses what little coordination he has in his daze to undo the belt around Linhardt’s waist as well. 

When Linhardt pulls away to catch his breath, Caspar gives a happy sigh. “Wow, Linhardt…” he utters, still thinking about how good Linhardt looked with his lips around his cock. He’s definitely going to keep that image in mind for a while. “I’ve never seen you put so much effort into something,” Caspar laughs lightly, and Linhardt raises his eyebrows.

  
He bends down over him to kiss him again, before resting both of his hands on his chest. “You know, I  _ do  _ put efforts into the things I like,” he answers to justify himself, then presses his lips against his forehead. “And… I really,  _ really  _ like you.”

Caspar, completely dumbstruck, is stuck in place for a moment and stops whatever he was doing with his hands. In the meantime, Linhardt is removing what remains of his clothing, then rummages through the pocket of his pants before throwing them off the bed. Caspar doesn’t see right away what he’s holding, but Linhardt quickly hides whatever it is behind his back before approaching him with a pleading gaze. 

“I’d like to ask…” he begins as he leans back slightly. “How would you feel about the idea of fucking me?”

“How would I  _ feel _ —” Caspar begins, almost choking as he repeats the words. He feels like steam is radiating off of his face; it’s easy to determine now that the thing Linhardt is holding in his hand is a bottle of lube. “You seriously ask the weirdest questions… how do you expect me to answer that with words…”

Linhardt is silent for a few seconds, his hand playing with the bottle as he brings it into sight. “When did you get that, by the way?” Caspar asks with an intense blush on his face. “Doesn’t look like the one I had in my room back at my place…”

“At the store when we went to get food earlier,” Linhardt answers, then immediately clears his throat. “You had some at your place? Why did you never mention…”

Caspar, who’s growing a little impatient, puts his hand on Linhardt’s side and lies him down on the bed so that he’s the one on top of him this time. Startled, Linhardt gasps lightly—but he looks absolutely thrilled as soon as his back hits the mattress. 

“You know I’m not good with words and stuff,” Caspar admits sheepishly, feeling his throat drying up when Linhardt spreads his legs to welcome him closer. “I mean, I  _ was  _ gonna ask you at some point. But I’m kinda glad you did it first.”

He’s a little embarrassed, but Linhardt doesn’t seem annoyed in any way; he gives a sweet smile instead, loosening his grasp on the bottle as Caspar slowly takes hold of it. “I’m glad too,” Linhardt murmurs, and before Caspar can do anything else, he grabs his wrist to bring his hand to his chest.

Like this, Caspar can feel Linhardt’s heartbeat against his chest, against his hand; it’s stronger than ever, almost synchronizing with Caspar’s own for a moment. During those few beats, the two remain silent, absolutely enraptured by each other. 

“Caspar…” Linhardt begins, voice carried right to Caspar’s heart. “Would you take care of me?” 

Snapped out of his thoughts, Caspar agrees with a nod. Linhardt is pretty as ever. Caspar would love to spend more time letting his eyes rove all over him, but he knows pleasing him will make the sight all the more interesting. He pours some lube onto his fingers before setting the bottle on the nightstand, then slowly brings his hand down and uses the other to grab Linhardt's thigh and push it further to the side. 

Linhardt hums eagerly, and as soon as Caspar's finger rubs against his entrance, he bites down on his bottom lip. 

"Everything okay?" Caspar whispers to him, and Linhardt lets out a small laugh. 

"Yes,  _ yes, _ " he answers as he slides his hands across the sheets and curls his fingers in them. 

Caspar is worried that he'll hurt him, of course—but he knows Linhardt would tell him if something were wrong. So now, he gently pushes his finger between his cheeks, and Linhardt instantly sucks in a breath. 

Caspar focuses most of his attention on his face, taking note of every little change in his expression; there’s a frown wrinkling Linhardt’s brow for just a second, before his features soften and a whimper leaves his lips. Caspar takes it as a confirmation that he can go a little further. Slowly, he pushes it deeper, and Linhardt  _ writhes _ .

“Oh— Goddess,” he breathes out, resting the back of his hand over his brow. 

“You’re amazing, Linhardt,” Caspar praises him, the words coming naturally at this point. Linhardt can’t help but let out a little laugh when he hears it, cheeks flushing as he rocks his hips down. 

He slowly rubs inside him, and when he slightly curves his finger to touch another spot, Linhardt cranes his head back against the pillow, shoving his hand in front of his mouth. 

“ _ There _ ,” Linhardt muffles his voice, but the whimper that comes out is one that Caspar believes he’ll hear again in his dreams. “Again, Caspar…”

Caspar does as he’s told, pressing there once more, again, and  _ again _ , keeping his finger gentle and slow. With time, Linhardt’s body grows more relaxed; he slides his hand under the pillow, and uses the other to grab his own thigh and pull it further up. 

“Another,” he pants, and Caspar listens with his full attention. He’s getting hot all over, his cock aching for attention, but he has to be patient. “Add another…”

“Mmh,” Caspar hums in response, and he brings another finger there; he pushes it inside, stretching Linhardt out further. He matches the movements of the first finger, and all the sensations cause Linhardt to squirm all the more. 

Linhardt stops trying to hold back his sounds after some time, and Caspar is ever so thankful for that. He sounds so pretty, so keen—Caspar almost forgets his own desperate state for a moment, until Linhardt’s words bring him out of his daze.

“I think… that’s enough,” he whispers, and Caspar stops moving. 

“You wanna stop?” He asks, to which Linhardt first widens his eyes, then offers an amused smile. 

“No, Caspar,” he sighs shakily. “I meant that I’m ready for you.” 

“Oh, sorry!” Caspar would slap his own forehead if his hands weren’t busy at the moment. What the hell is he even thinking—actually, he probably isn’t even  _ thinking _ right now. He finds that forming coherent thoughts isn’t something he can do at the same time as fingering Linhardt. 

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out, then takes the lube once more to instead slick his cock a little more than it already is. Linhardt watches him intently as he supports himself up on his elbows. “Hold on, babe—” Caspar murmurs as he pushes Linhardt so that he rests on his side, then firmly grabs his left leg and lifts it up until it rests on his shoulder. Surprised by the abrupt movement, Linhardt breathes excitedly.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Caspar asks in the softest voice he can manage as he lines his cock up with Linhardt’s hole. 

“Okay, okay,” Linhardt already pants as soon as he feels the tip sinking inside him. The muscles of his legs contract in response, and he curves his leg over Caspar’s shoulder to somehow bring him closer. Caspar slightly leans forward over him, and Linhardt, flexible as he is, follows the movement with his leg bent further towards his chest. 

When Caspar slowly pushes inside him, he already feels like his head is spinning. Linhardt is so tight around him, so perfect; there’s something absolutely maddening about the way he looks up into Caspar’s eyes like he’s pleading,  _ begging  _ for him to go further. “Oh,  _ Caspar _ ,” Linhardt breathes out his name as he presses his hand against the back of Caspar’s neck. “It’s so big...” 

Something hot flares in Caspar’s chest as he hears the words, and he can’t help but grin. “Yeah?” His voice comes out in a groan when he feels Linhardt clenching around him. “You like it?” 

“I  _ love  _ it,” Linhardt utters with a pleased sigh, something that soon turns into a desperate moan as Caspar pushes himself deeper. Satisfied by this response, Caspar sinks in until his hips are flush with Linhardt’s thighs, and the only noises in the room are their labored breathing.

Linhardt wets his lips, and Caspar exhales slowly before tightening his grip on Linhardt’s thigh. When he looks at his parted lips, he sees the fangs again—those beautiful fangs that were plunged into his neck not so long ago. As the images of Linhardt’s hungry eyes come to him, he instinctively jerks his hips, and the motion causes Linhardt to whine. 

The sound that leaves him after that is something that resembles a  _ ‘more’ _ , stuck on the tip of his tongue, held back by his own erratic breathing. To this, Caspar slowly pulls out almost completely, then pushes himself back in as deep as he can go. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Caspar groans as he repeats the movement, steady and strong in a way that prompts Linhardt to accidentally dig his nails into the skin of Caspar’s neck. The prickling sensation is followed by his fingers caressing him to soothe him. “Linhardt, you feel so fucking good,” he mutters, and while he deeply wishes to kiss him, their current position makes it difficult. So instead, he presses his lips against his ankle. A shiver crawls across Linhardt’s skin, his eyes fluttering close when Caspar finds an angle and pace that makes Linhardt throw his head back. 

Whimpering in pleasure with each push of Caspar’s cock against his sweet spot, Linhardt loses all ability to restrain his own voice; but at least, everything that comes out of his mouth is positive. “You’re amazing,” he breathes, “give me more, Caspar, please—” 

He begs for more, bites his lips as Caspar continues pounding into him with a faster pace. The bed creaks under them, and Caspar is pretty sure whoever’s downstairs is going to hear them... but honestly, fuck it. 

Linhardt holds onto him for dear life, his body bouncing back and forth with the force of Caspar’s thrusts. Precum leaks down his cock, yet he doesn’t touch himself just yet; Caspar hears him gasping loudly as his hands blindly search for his arms, and as soon as they’re resting on Caspar’s biceps, Linhardt lets out a pleading whine.

“Caspar...” he begins, breathing out all the air in his lungs. “Let’s— let’s change positions… I want to ride you.”

Caspar gradually slows down until the rocking of his hips comes to a stop. He catches his breath, and doesn’t question what Linhardt just suggested—he slowly pulls out, then lets go of Linhardt’s legs to allow him to move on his own once again. 

It takes a few seconds for Linhardt to sit up. His legs are trembling from being held down so much, yet he finds it in himself to move aside and allow Caspar to sit on the bed, his back leaned against the pillow he raises to put against the headboard for more comfort. Linhardt kneels in front of him, then wraps his hand around Caspar’s cock and strokes it lightly. 

Then, he leans forward to lock his lips with Caspar’s own for a messy, yet passionate kiss. Caspar’s tongue brushes briefly against one of Linhardt’s fangs when he pulls away, and when his hazy eyes linger on the sweet flush on Linhardt’s cheeks, he feels his heart hammering against his chest.

Linhardt is beautiful. It’s not that he hasn’t realized it before, in fact, he’s been feeling that way for a while now. But it’s not just that anymore. This face, this soft smile—this man is someone Caspar wants to wake up with in the morning. Not just the next morning, but the one after, and the one after that, again and again. The feeling that suddenly bursts in his chest is almost terrifying, although he welcomes it with a deep breath; and he’s brought back to reality by the slight tug of Linhardt’s teeth on his bottom lip as he sits on Caspar’s lap. 

“Hold me,” Linhardt whispers to him as he presses their foreheads together. He brings one arm around Caspar’s neck, while the other reaches back to guide his cock inside himself again. Caspar wastes no time wrapping his arms around Linhardt’s waist, lips pushed against his collarbone and offering gentle, soft kisses on his reddened skin. 

After a few seconds of deep breathing, Linhardt sits himself down, and Caspar feels it again; that warmth around him, tight and slick, and the sensation is different now that Linhardt is the one in control of his movements.

“Does that feel good?” Caspar asks, hands skimming across Linhardt’s back. 

Linhardt’s head is hanging down, his long hair cascading over his shoulder and tickling Caspar’s forehead. “Yes… it’s amazing...” He breathes as he leans forward, then starts rocking his hips up and down. 

Not only the feeling is fantastic, the sight is, too—Caspar watches him move up and down, breathless and disheveled, his cock twitching and leaking between them. Linhardt doesn't take long to accelerate his pace; he presses his fingers against Caspar's shoulders, gripping tightly like he could fall if he let go for even just a moment. 

Caspar kisses him here and there, whispering words of encouragement—although he can't help but thrust his hips up to match Linhardt's rhythm. "You're so good, babe," he says after kissing the underside of his jaw. Then, when Linhardt clenches around him harder, Caspar shudders and bites his collarbone. 

"Caspar, I—" Linhardt tried to speak, but his words are taken over by his intense breathing, the air forced out of his lungs everytime he rocks his hips down. "Keep doing that,  _ yes _ ..."

Happy to oblige, Caspar digs his teeth a little more into his skin, leaving red marks everywhere he bites. He keeps doing so as Linhardt moves quicker, body trembling with desire and pleasure, voice leaving him in desperate moans. Soon, Caspar can tell that Linhardt is close; so he puts his hand between them, and finally brings attention to Linhardt's cock by stroking him. 

"I'm gonna come," Linhardt whimpers, and he barely has time to finish his sentence before Caspar helps him reach his peak. 

His body tenses, his legs almost failing him as he comes with a torn moan, spilling right into Caspar's hand. Caspar strokes him through it, watching as cum dribbles down between them. He presses his lips against Linhardt's own and kisses his breath away until Linhardt lets out an overwhelmed whine into Caspar's mouth. 

"Too much… I can't…" Linhardt breathes heavily, and Caspar understands that he has to let go. His hand leaves his cock, and it twitches in oversensitiveness. 

"It's okay, Linhardt— hold on just a sec," he murmurs to him, then slowly helps him up as he pulls out of him. Once the two are apart, Caspar gently sits him in his lap and starts stroking himself. He's very close too, just a little more…

Linhardt swallows sharply after he catches his breath. His eyes travel down and linger on Caspar's cock and the up-and-down movements of his hand, the way precum leaks out of the slit and drips down the length. "You're wonderful," he murmurs. Caspar's vision is clouded by stars, but he can still see Linhardt's smile and reddened lips. All he can manage in response is a groan. 

It doesn't take long for Caspar to come undone too. Soon, he presses his forehead against Linhardt's shoulder, and his hand gives one last squeeze before he cums all over Linhardt's abdomen. 

Linhardt's teeth worry at his bottom lip when he feels it running down between his thighs. In a quiet moment, the two steady their breathing and regain their senses; Caspar, who slowly comes down from his afterglow, kisses Linhardt all over his neck, his jaw, before he reaches his lips. 

Still very keen, Linhardt cups the sides of Caspar's face to deepen the kiss. Caspar gently rolls him to the side until Linhardt lies on his back once again. 

"Ah, I'm sorry…" Caspar sheepishly apologizes when he looks at the state of the man under him. "You just showered, and I—" 

"Caspar," Linhardt says his name in an endeared sigh. "I obviously knew what I was getting into. A damp towel will do just fine for now."

"Yeah, you're right." Caspar laughs lightly at himself, then places a loving kiss on Linhardt's forehead. "Give me a minute."

*

When the two are finally cleaned up and lying in bed, Linhardt clings to him lovingly; Caspar feels like he's in a dream, getting to cuddle with him like this. He's been feeling rather calm, but there's a mess of emotions fighting themselves in his heart. Linhardt has probably noticed that it was beating faster; after all, his head is resting on his chest. But if that's the case, he hasn't said anything about it. 

"You wanna do something?" Caspar asks as he runs his hand through Linhardt's long, soft hair. "It's still pretty early in the afternoon."

"Let's see…" Linhardt hums pensively, but he doesn't take too long to answer. "How about sleeping."

"Hah, I knew you'd say that," Caspar laughs. "I guess that's fine. I might still get some training in later today though…"

To this, Linhardt's mouth falls shut, and there's a sort of melancholy darkening his gaze. He sighs, and Caspar does expect him to say something—but Linhardt stays silent. 

"... Something on your mind?" He asks, and Linhardt finally tilts his head to look at him. "You don't look very… happy."

Linhardt ends up smiling lightly. Caspar knows by now that Linhardt doesn't like to pretend he's fine, he doesn't like to lie… so he knows something is wrong. 

"I  _ am  _ happy," Linhardt says, and as strange as it is, it sounds sincere. "In fact, I'm so happy that I'm afraid this happiness will be taken away from me."

"Hey…" Caspar runs his hand across his back in reassurance. He's optimistic about the situation, but Linhardt is right. There are always a few things they could be worried about. "Look, here's what we'll do when we get into the hideout. We stay close to each other, we watch each other's backs. If someone attacks, I'll fight them; and if I get hurt, you'll heal me. We'll be unstoppable like this."

The smile that tugs at Linhardt's lips is a little happier now, and Caspar can't help but grin in return. "I remember the plan being a little more complex than that," he whispers before placing a playful kiss on Caspar's nose. "But yes, let's stick together. I don't imagine that Edelgard will get on our case if we win anyway."

"That's right!" Caspar exclaims as he embraces Linhardt tighter. "We'll be okay, I know it. And when it's over, let's go to that fancy restaurant again." Linhardt looks up incredulously. "It'll be my treat this time." 

With a fond sigh, Linhardt buries his face in the crook of Caspar's neck. 

He's right. He shouldn't think about the worst possible outcomes too much. But it's almost an impossible feat for him; it'll take some time to regain confidence, and hopefully, some sort of fighting spirit will appear within him before the fight begins. 

But there's something darker in his heart, a feeling he can't do much to shake off… 

A terrifying feeling. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay.... .. ...... im sorry i cant ever chill...... .....  
> shout out to the casphardt server yall are real mvps  
> feel free to follow me on twitter [**@beelzebumons**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons)!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! Sorry it took me so long to update I was really artblocked :( anyway hope you like it and HAPPY BIRTHDAY CASPAR
> 
> cw: blood/injury, violence, brief mention of needle

Preparing for an expedition to an underground hideout full of vampire mages is a lot more complicated than Caspar thought it would be—although he’s not sure why he expected anything else. Living in modern times means that people can’t simply walk around with weapons in hands without being questioned and arrested, so him and his friends had to gradually bring them to the music studio two by two throughout the day, hiding them in the trunk of a car. He knew Dimitri and Byleth had a rather large collection of old weapons, but he never thought he’d get to use one of those giant silver axes one day.

He takes part in several of the trips to take the weapons there, making sure that Linhardt is never left alone by taking him along. It’s only been a few days since Linhardt last drank his blood, so he’s still in good shape, by Linhardt standards, of course. 

The group makes one last trip to the music studio before the sun sets, locking the door behind themselves and descending to the cellar where Linhardt had found the entrance to the underground tunnels. 

Some time after they reach the cellar, Edelgard and her allies arrive as well. 

“Now is your last chance to go home if you do not wish to risk your life any longer,” she suddenly says as she stands next to the crack in the wooden floor. “If you decide to remain, take your weapon in hand now if you use any.” 

And nobody turns away. 

Caspar thought that all the vampires would use magic, but surprisingly, Edelgard carries a sort of large weapon instead, shaped like a giant sickle and dented on the edges; Caspar is certain he catches sight of that… thing moving and twitching for a second, but he blames it on his imagination. 

Linhardt, Hubert, Dorothea, Lysithea, Marianne—all of them go in without a single weapon in hand. Meanwhile, everyone else carries either a sword, a lance, an axe or a bow; Petra is the only one to have brought her  _ own _ weapon, strangely enough. And Caspar doesn’t fail to notice the slight unease in Linhardt’s expression when he glances at her intricate crossbow. 

“Then let’s go,” Edelgard breathes out. “Stand back, everyone.” 

Once everyone is at a safe enough distance, Edelgard raises her heavy axe like it’s the lightest thing in the world to her, and she plunges it down onto the crack to open a large hole for everyone to go through.

This passage obviously wasn’t meant for humans to be used, so of course, there aren’t any stairs. They have to jump down a dark hole through which they can’t see without light; the vampires jump down first with fire magic at the tips of their fingers, making sure that there are no enemies around the entrance. 

“The humans may come in,” Edelgard speaks from under the floor, and Bernadetta is the first to jump in to rush back to Edelgard’s side. The others come down one by one, and Caspar helps Linhardt once it’s his turn. 

“I am  _ never  _ doing this again once this is over,” Linhardt sighs as Caspar grabs his waist to gently pull him down. He’s pretty sure that Linhardt would’ve been able to jump down by himself, but Caspar can’t waste an opportunity to wrap his arms around him again. “I’ll just… retire. From being a vampire.” 

“Is that even possible?” Caspar mumbles curiously as he makes sure Linhardt is touching the ground before letting him go. 

“I’ll find a way somehow.” Linhardt readjusts his hair, then lights a small ball of magic fire at the tip of his finger as well. With that and the flashlights, Caspar can see his surroundings a bit clearly, but… there’s nothing but black rocky walls and small puddles of water around. 

The last two to come down are Petra and Dorothea, who hold each other’s hands through the whole process. Petra’s other hand is holding onto that crossbow that Linhardt squints at everytime it shows in his vision, and Caspar can’t help but be curious as the group starts to advance through the tunnel with Hubert’s directions.

“Petra, that crossbow…” Linhardt utters as he points his finger to it. “It looks familiar. It wouldn’t happen to be a venom crossbow, would it?” 

“You are being correct,” Petra answers as she holds up her weapon for her friends to have a good look at it. “My grandfather in Brigid has made it a gift for me. I’m glad for my deciding to bring it with me in Garreg Mach.”

Linhardt suddenly seems a little more relaxed now that he gets to see it up close. He doesn’t dare touch it, however, for some reason. “Fascinating,” he says, “then I’m assuming you’re part of Brigid’s official league of vampire hunters?” 

Caspar’s eyebrows raise suddenly. The  _ what  _ now? 

“Yes, that is true…” Petra answers with a hint of sorrow in her voice. “Or I should be saying, it  _ was _ true.”

“Hold on,” Caspar interrupts. “I didn’t know any of that! How many of you have hidden identities I haven’t learned about yet?” 

Dorothea laughs lightly as she wraps her arm around Petra’s own. “I think you’re caught up now,” she says,” and Caspar suddenly connects two more dots. 

“But if you’re a vampire hunter, then—” he begins as he scratches his temple. “—why are you helping us protect one?” 

Petra turns to look at Linhardt before beginning her explanation. “Linhardt and the other vampires here are not the same as the vampires from Brigid. The vampires of Brigid are monsters who are attacking villages and who are enslaving other magical creatures.” 

“This is what we’re dealing with here,” Linhardt adds. “The vampires of Brigid are all Agarthans.”

Caspar hums as he kicks a pebble to the side while they keep on advancing. “I guess it makes sense now why you were one of the first people to know about the situation.” 

“I have had knowledge of this on the first day of meeting Linhardt,” Petra affirms, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Just like Dorothea.”

To this, Caspar can’t help but slap himself across the forehead. Linhardt lets out a small laugh at his reaction. “It seems like the lies we made up barely fooled anyone,” he says. 

“Yeah, well… at least we tried, I guess?” Caspar offers him a grin, and before he can lean over to press a kiss on Linhardt’s cheek, Hubert’s voice resonates through the corridor. 

“Silence,” he says with an insisting tone, his gaze piercing through the group of people standing between them. Caspar instantly knows he’s addressing him. “We are getting closer to the hideout. You would do well not to alert the enemy.”

Caspar doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t hesitate to make fun of him once Hubert looks forward again. He mimics him with a grimace, and Linhardt has a hard time suppressing his giggle. 

After a few seconds, Caspar does hear Lysithea muttering something along the lines of  _ ‘children, both of you, really’  _ without looking at them. The two do end up regaining a bit of their seriousness after forcing their smiles off their faces. 

And Hubert was right; the group soon ends up facing a large gate, which is surprisingly unguarded. It’s about three meters tall, and probably too thick to simply be pushed open too. There’s no lock, so Caspar can only assume it was sealed with a sort of magic spell… 

“The spell that binds this door is powerful,” Linhardt explains as he crosses his arms. “It’ll take a great amount of physical strength as well as magic to open it.”

“Of course,” Dimitri speaks up, and Caspar glances at him while he steps forward, accompanied by Marianne. There’s something strange about his voice—it’s almost as if it’s lower, like a growl emerging from the depths of his chest. “This is why we waited for the next full moon after all.” 

Right—it’s impossible to tell from here, but the moon has most likely risen by now. Caspar understands what’s going on as soon as the two start groaning, slowly changing,  _ transforming _ ; he’s never seen something like this before. They grow larger and larger, their faces shifting to those of monstrous wolves, with fangs so sharp that Caspar is  _ really  _ thankful that they’re on his side. 

“It seems like they’ve been working on their self-control for a really long time,” Linhardt whispers to himself, impressed by it all. “It makes sense that you didn’t find out about Dimitri’s true nature before,” he adds as he looks towards Caspar. 

Before Caspar can answer, a loud crash resounds through the tunnel; Dimitri and Marianne, now resembling giant wolves, have already begun rushing against the gate, slamming the sides of their bodies against it. It doesn’t seem like it’s hurting them at all, but judging by the sound, it’s already making damage on that large door. In the meantime, Hubert, Lysithea and Dorothea are already holding up their hands to use their magic. 

“Instead of chattering, perhaps you should consider helping,” Hubert mutters bitterly, and even if he’s not looking at him, it’s fairly obvious that he’s addressing Linhardt. The man in question sighs deeply before holding up his hands as well, and something lights up between them; it makes the sound of a strong wind which he throws right into the gate, and a fissure appears in the middle. 

The assault continues for the next few minutes; the werewolves crash repeatedly into the door, and when they pull back, powerful magic follows. Caspar watches closely as the gate slowly breaks down, revealing the room right behind—but it’s pitch black inside, as if their path were leading them to a sort of void. 

Soon, Dimitri and Marianne pull away completely. The door crumbles down after their efforts, and Caspar tightens his grip on his silver axe; the inside of the room isn’t so dark anymore. Strangely enough, neon lights on the wall begin to illuminate it, revealing two Agarthan soldiers waiting for them right behind. Caspar recognizes their ashy skin almost immediately, although he didn’t know that some of them would ever use physical combat.

Indeed, one of them is wielding a large axe; the Agarthan bares his fangs as he jumps out of the room and into the tunnel, letting out a guttural battle cry before brandishing his axe and darting towards Marianne—

But he’s soon stopped by the heavy whack of a mace on the side of his head. The blow causes him to topple forward and fall to his knees, but he doesn’t stay conscious for long; as he falls down, Hilda throws her mace over her shoulder again, and frowns heavily. 

“Nobody hurts my Marianne!” She shouts before striding back to Marianne’s side and gently petting her fur. 

The way the second Agarthan soldier goes is almost pathetic; as they prepare a dark magic attack, Lysithea is the one to retaliate with a spell of her own, which suffocates them instantly. She then gestures for the group to come inside, where the only light that illuminates their path is a strange neon blue that hurts the eye. 

But for the next few minutes, they move through a corridor similar to the one they just came from. It’s strangely empty, although it doesn’t take much longer until they hear a loud, high-pitched alarm resounding through the area; it seems to be coming from everywhere at once, and Caspar can already hear the rapid steps of more Agarthans coming from deeper down the hideout. He remains close to Linhardt, making sure that nothing is coming to take them by surprise. 

After some time, the group arrives in front of what appears to be a simple wall; but as they get closer, they realize that their path is divided in two smaller corridors, one going to the left, the other to the right. 

“What a strange layout,” Edelgard says, managing to remain calm through it all. “It seems like we have no choice but to split up. Let’s act quickly.” 

“I’m going with Linhardt!” Caspar blurts out almost instinctively as he grabs Linhardt’s hand. Slightly startled, the other man turns to look at him with an amused smile. 

“I  _ know _ ,” Edelgard mutters annoyedly. “One werewolf and two magic users for each side. If something goes awry, Lysithea and I will communicate telepathically to inform each other. Let’s go immediately!” 

Very little time is taken to decide who goes to which side; Caspar ends up rushing into the left corridor, accompanied by Linhardt, Lysithea, Hilda, Marianne, Claude, Dorothea and Petra. He takes one last glance at the rest of the group who heads into the right corridor and disappears into the shadows. 

They’d expected that they would have to split at some point, but it’s at least reassuring to know that they’re with enough reliable people to continue on. Caspar and Linhardt remain right behind Lysithea who’s leading the group with a ball of light at the tip of her finger to make their surroundings a bit more clear. 

But honestly, it isn’t much different from before. The corridor is narrower, sure, but the neon lights are still embedded into the walls, forming intricate blue circuits. 

Caspar focuses his gaze forward, and soon, a set of steps comes their way; a group of Agarthan soldiers appear in front of them, some of them bearing weapons, the others only using magic. Caspar can tell that Linhardt is tensing up at the sight of them; his brow furrows when the soldiers charge towards them. One of them falls first, with a bolt lodged into their neck—when Caspar turns around, he realizes that Petra is holding up her crossbow and already preparing a second bolt. 

The soldier, still writhing on the ground, doesn’t last much longer; Dorothea finishes them off with a thunder spell as she rushes to Petra’s side. In the meantime, Hilda jumps onto Marianne’s back, brandishing her mace and charging towards the crowd of soldiers. It only takes a few seconds for Caspar and Linhardt to look at each other, nodding to reaffirm their own personal strategy before following them and joining the fray. 

Caspar had experienced the thrill of battle before; he remembers most of his fights with extreme clarity, although he knows they never truly meant anything—not as much as  _ this _ , anyway. The knowledge that he could be taken out of this world if he makes a single misstep shouldn’t fuel the fire within him, but it does, and he’s ever so thankful for that. This time, though, many swings from his axe become a blur, and it’s as though his body were moving on its own. He slices left and right, finding the chests of his foes, their necks; the Agarthans bleed at his feet, and he breathes in. 

When another soldier charges at him with their sword brandished, Caspar barely has time to block it with the handle of his own weapon. His eyes center on the edge of his enemy’s deadly blade, so close to his brow, so shrill in his ears; he grunts with the force as he pushes the Agarthan soldier back. But as he stops to readjust himself, his foe flashes left and right like a blinking light, and thrusts their sword towards Caspar’s side—

Only to be stopped by the violent force of Linhardt’s wind spell. The soldier is knocked back, their sword falling out of their grasp and hitting the floor a little further away. 

“Thanks, Linhardt,” Caspar beams at him, and quickly remembers that he’s covered in blood; no wonder Linhardt has to look away when he smiles back at him. 

“Watch out!” 

While distracted, Caspar can’t see the following soldier coming for him. An Agarthan mage with a veil in front of their face, a long, dark dress, had prepared a dangerous lightning spell. As soon as Caspar hears the electricity crackling above him, he instinctively closes his eyes—however, Lysithea soon interrupts them with a terrifying dark spell of her own. The Agarthan mage is eliminated quickly, and Lysithea turns to Caspar and Linhardt with an irate glare. 

“Will you pay attention to your surroundings?!” She scolds them, but Caspar doesn’t have time to apologize. 

Indeed, there are more Agarthans coming their way. 

“I didn’t think there’d be so many of them,” Claude utters as he nocks an arrow. “And it doesn’t seem like we took them by surprise after all.” 

The arrow flies across the room and lands right into a soldier’s face, finishing them off instantly. 

Right. The alarm may be ringing for them, but the Agarthans are all coming from the same direction, all armed from head to toe. Caspar would like to believe that soldiers are all the enemy has, but his hopes are soon crushed when an extremely loud stomp resonates through the corridor. 

“What the hell was that?!” Caspar shouts, and he watches Hilda and Marianne returning from the darkness further away; every hair on Marianne’s transformed body is standing straight, her fangs bared. Hilda doesn’t look much better. She has bloodstains all over her face, her shoulders, her hair—most of it doesn’t seem like it’s coming from her, but there is a gash on her left arm. 

“Guys! There’s—” Hilda doesn’t seem to know how to explain what she just saw. Either that, or she doesn’t have enough air in her lungs to articulate it. 

But Caspar soon understands what they’re dealing with. From the shadows emerges a large armored beast, carrying a shield and a glowing sword; it stomps loudly across the corridor as it comes closer to the group, and as Caspar raises his head to look at that  _ thing _ , he realizes how small he is. 

“It’s… a Titanus?” Linhardt mutters as he immediately grabs Caspar’s arm. “All this time, they had a  _ Titanus _ ? How can that be possible?” 

Caspar takes a few steps back. “A what?” He asks, but truth be told, he doesn’t think there’s enough time for explanations. What he can guess is that it’s a sort of demonic beast, but… more developed? 

Another bolt flies past him, once again shot by Petra’s crossbow. But all it does as it hits the frame of that creature’s armor is fall right back down. Seeing how ineffective her attack was, Petra immediately frowns. “We are needing to destroy that armor first,” she says, and Caspar prepares his axe. 

Hilda is the first to rush in to attack. She’s still on Marianne’s back, mace brandished high above her; and when she’s close enough, she smashes it into the Titanus’ arm. The blow creates only a small crack in its armor, but Caspar knows they just have to keep going in order to destroy it. 

Hilda jumps off Marianne’s back and starts striking the creature’s legs. In the meantime, Marianne comes back to the rest of the group, closer to Caspar so that he can jump on her back as well. It’s a weird sensation; he’s never ridden a giant wolf before, so it’s almost intimidating. But only for a second. His mind quickly goes back to focus on the fray, and he shouts a battle cry as Marianne takes him closer to the Titanus.

It’s his turn to swing his axe against one of its arms; the same one that Hilda attacked, to weaken this part even more. The silver of his axe loudly crashes against the strange material of its armor, and after a few strikes, a wider gap creates itself within its protection. 

The Titanus, while disoriented for an instant, manages to raise its glowing sword. By swishing it from right to left, it creates a sharp, fiery gust that flies right towards Marianne. “Watch out!” Caspar screams, and the werewolf manages to dodge right in time by jumping over the attack. But as the gust flies further back, it crashes right into the floor, breaking through it and leaving a crater. 

“This thing’s powerful,” Caspar breathes out as Marianne steps back for a moment. He turns back to make sure that no one is hurt so far. Linhardt looks at him intently, and there’s something in his gaze that shows how tense he is.

But ‘tense’ doesn’t even begin to describe what Linhardt really feels at the moment. If he weren’t constantly repeating himself over and over that he has to keep fighting, he’d be petrified; indeed, he feels like he’s the only one who notices the injuries that his allies are sustaining. They’re not severe at all, thank goodness; but they cause enough blood to drip for Linhardt to feel his throat tightening. 

To relieve this tension and to allow himself to focus on something else, he unleashes another magical attack; his cutting gale hisses through the corridor before it hits the Titanus right into the gap of its armor. 

At the very least, this sort of enemy is one he doesn’t mind fighting; it doesn’t scream when hurt, doesn’t bleed when injured. A hollow shell. It’s the only solace Linhardt can find in this moment. 

“Okay, our magical attacks should make a lot more damage once its armor is down,” Dorothea whispers to herself, although Linhardt still hears her. But to take down such a resistant armor could take a while… and perhaps they need an  _ army  _ for that. Something they don’t have.

Another bolt flies past him; Petra shoots the Titanus once more, this time in its weakened spots. It does a lot more damage than her previous attempts. The frame of the robot begins to crack in multiple places, and it seems to confuse its programming as well; for a moment, it stammers as if it couldn’t support itself up on its two legs. 

Caspar takes this opportunity to attack. He repeatedly plunges his axe into the gaps, directly damaging the circuits beneath—and with another hard thrust of his weapon, he manages to rip off a large chunk of armor off its chest. Linhardt can hear him laughing at his own prowess; truth be told, what he’s doing isn’t as reckless as Linhardt thought it would be. He follows the plan perfectly, albeit with a lot more noise and enthusiasm than necessary, but the results are impressive. Linhardt can’t help but be amazed at how relentless he is. He’ll have to praise him for it later. 

But there’s a single moment, a second of inattention; something that’s clearly enough for the Titanus to retaliate. In one violent movement of its arm, it shoves Caspar away and sends him flying across the room. Caspar lands on the floor with a sharp grunt of pain, and Linhardt’s breathing is stuck in his throat for an instant. “Caspar!” He shouts to catch his attention, although it seems like Caspar is too stunned to respond. Linhardt immediately rushes towards him, his hands already preparing a healing spell—the moment he crouches next to him, Caspar tries to sit up, to no avail.

“Dammit…” Caspar hisses when he attempts to move his left arm. “I think that thing broke my arm…” 

“Stay put, Caspar,” Linhardt breathes out shakily, then brings his hands to Caspar’s injured arm. “This is bad… broken bones don’t heal up quickly even with healing magic.” 

In the meantime, Claude and Petra seem to have teamed up to shoot the Titanus from afar with their arrows; it seems to do enough damage to pin it in place, at least. Caspar makes a pained expression before biting down his lower lip. “I… I can’t believe I let this happen—”

“It’s going to be alright; trust me,” Linhardt tries to reassure him, although he’s not sure how good he is at this. As he keeps his undivided attention on Caspar’s arm, the loud crash of Dorothea’s magic into the Titanus’ frame resonates in his head. Concentrating on an injured person in such circumstances takes a lot from him. He tries to keep his eyes on his friend’s face, and his hands tense up as he sends more magic into his arm.

It’s a technique that  _ could  _ work faster, but the tremors it sends to his heart are fierce and painful. Linhardt’s brow knits as he feels his vision doubling.

“Linhardt, hey—” Caspar calls out to him, but white noise is all that Linhardt can hear now. His teeth are gritting against each other, his veins showing through his pale hands—it’s a dangerous way to use magic, he knows it very well. Yet… 

“Linhardt! Move!” 

His stupor is abruptly interrupted by Caspar who uses his  _ injured  _ arm to try and push him to the side. Linhardt’s consciousness comes back to him all at once, shaking him to the core; the moment light comes back to his eyes, his right leg feels like it’s burning. 

Caspar doesn’t pay attention to his own injury anymore; in fact, Linhardt’s own is something that immediately sends him into panic. While Linhardt was healing him, the Titanus shot another gust of light towards him, and it seems like it’s struck his leg. The burn has eaten away at Linhardt’s clothes,… and there’s a large, bleeding gash on his skin. 

“Okay, Linhardt— _ don’t  _ look at your leg,” Caspar explains shakily as he tries to move, only to be painfully reminded that Linhardt has accidentally fallen on top of his broken arm. “Linhardt, you can hear me right?!” 

Linhardt’s eyes are still open, but it doesn’t seem like he’s in a clear state of mind. Caspar grabs his chin and shakes his head slightly; in the distance, he can see Marianne returning to her human form and rushing towards them while preparing healing magic in her palms.

The rest of the group finally manages to take the Titanus down; it crumbles into a pile of debris and dust, scattering across the floor. Caspar wants to believe that they’re at the end of this, and he dares to let a smile tug at the corners of his lips once Marianne kneels at their side.

And when Caspar opens his mouth to speak; a grey hand instantly covers it. 

“No need to speak anymore, human,” a voice above him says, and Caspar tilts his head back to look, only to be met with Kronya’s toothy smile. 

He muffles a shout when he tries to struggle away, but Kronya’s other hand brings something sharp and painful to his neck, something like… a needle. 

Whatever Kronya says next, Caspar can’t hear much of it. Dizziness instantly overcomes him as his strength leaves each part of his body; even his sight grows weak. His mind screams for him to get up again, but his body refuses to listen. And in the meantime, he can see Linhardt and all his other friends being caught by more Agarthan soldiers, injected with the same drug.

And all he can do is watch as they’re all taken away to an unknown place, before his consciousness escapes him completely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'm sorry about this cliffhanger!!! lmao
> 
> Also some really sweet people made some fanart for this fic!! Thank you so much guys it means so much to me ;w; 
> 
> chromspouse on twitter made this really amazing comic page!! You can look at it [**HERE**](https://twitter.com/chromspouse/status/1273171039753773061)!
> 
> and conchonnefiture on twitter made this spicy af art 8))) you can look at it [**HERE**](https://twitter.com/cochonnefiture/status/1275941778651328513)!
> 
> Oh and I made some art too lmao,, its [**HERE**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons/status/1270841846139404295)!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here's an update!! Hope u like ittt
> 
> cw: body horror, blood/injury, violence, mention of needles

Caspar's head hurts terribly when he awakens; it's as if he repeatedly hit it against a wall before he passed out. 

The pain feels like it'll split his skull open, so he doesn't dare open his eyes just yet. He doesn't remember what happened right away. He was… attacking the Agarthans' hideout with his friends, wasn't he? There were a lot more enemies than he expected, but they'd been doing alright until he lost consciousness. They were fighting those giant robot things… 

The burning sensation in his arm reminds him that he's probably broken a bone. Not only that, but the memories of a needle piercing his neck resurface—

Linhardt. Where's Linhardt? 

Caspar's eyes open to try and look for him. His friend was taken away at the same time as he was by Agarthan soldiers, now he remembers; but where did they take him? 

As he breathes in and tries to move, he takes a look at the walls around him. It looks like he's been lying on his side in a small, dark room with no furniture whatsoever, just a few of these strange neon lights they've been seeing since they got inside. 

"Linhardt?" Caspar calls out his friend’s name as he sits up, and the moment he tries to stand, he hears the sound of something metallic rustling against the hard floor. 

It’s a chain, and it's attached to his ankle. 

"What the hell—" he looks down at the thick piece of metal circling his leg. When he tugs, he realizes that the chain is linked to the wall behind him. He can't go anywhere like this… 

He still manages to at least stand up to get a better view of what's around him. As his eyes adjust to the obscurity, he's finally able to detect the silhouette of someone sitting against the wall on the opposite side of the room. 

And that someone is Linhardt. 

Caspar gasps as he recognizes him—Linhardt seems to still be unconscious, his head hanging down and his hair disheveled. "Linhardt! You're here!" Caspar exclaims as he tries to rush to him. The instant relief causes him to forget that he's trapped, and he trips when he moves further than the chain allows him to. He lands on his knees first, then puts his unscathed arm down to halt his fall. 

" _ Fuck _ ," he hisses in pain, looking up to see if his friend is reacting in any way. "Hey, Linhardt, wake up! It's me, Caspar! We need to get out of here!" 

But Linhardt doesn't respond; he sits unmoving in front of him, and it doesn't look like he's breathing either. Caspar would panic if he didn't know that, as a half-vampire, Linhardt doesn't breathe all that much in the first place. Still… 

Caspar attempts to pull on his chain multiple times, but as strong as his legs are, he can't break this at all. He grunts when the edge of the metal digs into his ankle, but immediately stops when he hears some ruffling. 

Linhardt seems to be moving. Only slightly, however—but Caspar still sighs in relief. He calls out his name once more, and this time, his friend seems to hear. But when Linhardt raises his head to look at him, Caspar immediately finds that something is wrong. 

One look at Linhardt is enough to tell that he's not himself at the moment. His skin has turned a pale grey, much like the Agarthans', and his eyes glow red through the darkness of the room. They'd turned red before when he was hungry for blood, but right now, Caspar can't even see his pupils. 

Linhardt takes in a strained breath. Unlike Caspar, he's not chained to the wall, and can move as much as he likes. "Linhardt? What's going on with you—" 

Before he can finish speaking, the room is suddenly lit up; a shadow shows up behind the bars outside of the room, carrying a torch with a green flame. Kronya, the Agarthan who drugged him and took him away is here, smiling happily when she notices that the two have regained consciousness. Caspar’s anger instantly flares. 

"Hey!" He shouts as he tries to move towards the bars, although he can't get much closer. "What the hell did you do to Linhardt?!" 

"So lively," Kronya muses as she sets the torch against the wall behind her. "I didn't think you'd be able to move around so much even after what I gave you. Oh well. I guess it'll make for a more interesting show!"

Caspar looks back to Linhardt—he's standing up slowly with a hand on his knee, his mouth hanging open and his fangs glinting under the light. They look… bigger than usual. And it even looks like they’re still growing, ever so slowly. 

"What are you talking about?" He asks Kronya, although his eyes are stuck on his friend instead. Linhardt stays in place for a few seconds, and when Caspar turns to face Kronya again, he notices that she's holding something in her clawed hand. 

It's a sort of vial full of a glowing blue liquid; she shakes it slightly in front of her gaze, humming a little song. "I'm just doing a bit of experimentation for now," she says as she sets the vial down on the table next to her. "Do you know what this is?" 

Caspar doesn't respond. He's afraid to know the answer, truth be told; but in this situation, he has to. 

"This little thing is holding his soul, that I've just extracted while he was asleep," Kronya explains as she points to Linhardt. "When a soul is extracted from a human, the body simply becomes a hollow shell. But when it’s done to a vampire, the body still contains the instincts it was born with…" 

Caspar feels his blood turning to ice. 

"Well, I was curious to see what happened if we did it to a half-vampire. But honestly, it looks boring so far," Kronya adds with a disappointed sigh. 

No… no, that's not possible. Caspar doesn't believe it. He doesn't  _ want _ to. He shakes his head repeatedly before moving back towards Linhardt, and he catches his shoulders to shake him. 

"Linhardt! She's joking, right?!” He yells, his panicked stare focusing on his friend. Linhardt is devoid of any expression, any emotion; he simply stares at Caspar with his blood-red eyes, lips parted to show his fangs. They’ve grown so big by now that it looks like he can’t close his mouth anymore. Caspar doesn’t think twice. “You… you just need some blood to help you wake up a little—" 

He tugs his collar to the side; but the moment his neck is further exposed, Kronya lets out a disturbing laugh. 

He understands his mistake when Linhardt lunges towards him. Caspar, despite what he'd just said, manages to dodge right in time to avoid a bite that seems like it could be deadly this time. 

Caspar's chain holds him back, and he tumbles down once more. "Linhardt, don't!" He shouts to him, heart hammering against his chest as he tries to stand up again. The drug’s effects seem to worsen when the stress courses through him—his legs start to wobble when he tries to stand up too quickly. "That’s not how we do it, remember?!" 

Kronya giggles from behind the bars, then pulls a chair towards herself to sit down and cross her legs to watch leisurely. "You're pathetic. He can't hear you, you know? To him, you look like prey right now. Nothing more." She leans her head against her hand. “Just as it should’ve always been.”

Caspar curses under his breath, and his eyes start feeling like they’re burning. Linhardt, who’s always despised attacking anyone, is being reduced to a thoughtless monster...

After they've gone this far? 

Just looking at him makes Caspar want to scream out in anguish. All he can see in his eyes is hunger, boring into him like he’s already being torn apart. “Linhardt, wait…” Caspar chokes as he watches him walk closer, hands raised slightly as if he were going to try to grab his throat. Even his nails have grown into sharp claws, splitting his skin open and causing his blood to dribble down his fingertips. 

Caspar manages to stand up fully, then takes a deep breath before positioning himself to escape once again if he needs to. "Stop it! I don't wanna fight you!" 

His words have no effect on his poor friend, who simply staggers towards him. The chain rattles when Caspar moves to the side, his breathing shaky as he prepares his fists. 

But he truly doesn't want to hit him. Instead, he grabs Linhardt by the wrist, then turns him around and pushes his palm against his shoulder to shove him away. Linhardt almost trips before he catches himself with a hand on the wall, and this time, he breathes—although there's nothing relieving about it. He sounds… enraged. 

Caspar wipes the corner of his eye with the back of his wrist. "Linhardt, please…" he utters, feeling his chest tighten painfully. He can never forgive himself for letting this happen. After all this time telling Linhardt he'd protect him no matter what, the worst has happened, and what can he do? 

Maybe buying time is the only thing he can do until he finds a solution. Maybe what happened can be reversed… if Linhardt's soul is trapped in that bottle, maybe there's a way to give it back to him.

Linhardt moves towards him again, grunting every time he makes a single step, as if he were in pain. He probably  _ is _ . Caspar dodges as many times as he can, and when Linhardt grabs his arms, he struggles free. Minutes pass as Caspar feels his life flashing before his eyes every single time Linhardt's fangs come too close to his skin, and Kronya watches, entertained by it all. 

"Listen to me, Linhardt!" Caspar shouts as he continuously avoids getting caught, although he's starting to breathe heavily. "You don't like doing this! You hate the sight of blood and you hate attacking people!" He starts listing off whatever comes through his mind, and suddenly, his distraction causes him to back up against the wall. 

"You're not a monster like  _ them _ ," Caspar continues with a desperate lilt in his voice. His throat is so tight that it's becoming difficult to speak. "So please, Linhardt… snap out of it…"

Caspar could dodge again, but it seems like the drug he was given doesn't allow him to use his full strength. His knees are starting to feel weak again. Soon, he finds himself stuck, and Linhardt catches up to him, pressing his hand against Caspar's throat. 

But he doesn't apply much pressure. It's a way to keep him in place instead, without choking him; although Caspar feels like there's not enough air coming in. 

The moment his vision clears up, he can see Linhardt's face again. 

There's no trace of humanity in his eyes, nothing that resembles the man Caspar knew even just moments before. He bares his fangs like a hungry monster, ready to bite down and get it over with, yet… he's suffering deeply, sorrow in his crimson gaze. 

Caspar swallows sharply before closing his eyes in defeat. 

"It's okay…" he whispers, almost to himself. "I deserve it."

He expects Linhardt to tear his throat apart any second from now, and truth be told, it's difficult to open his eyes once more; but he has to face him. Caspar has to look at him in the eyes, as empty as they are right now. 

"I told you I'd protect you from them, I promised to myself that I'd never let anything bad happen to you," Caspar explains as his eyes open slowly. Linhardt's fangs are mere inches away from his throat. 

"I messed up," Caspar continues with a trembling voice, and as he bites down the inside of his lip, the tears start flowing along his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Linhardt, I…"

His heart aches, crushed by the guilt, the regret. There’s nothing to be done now, and it’s all his fault. 

"I love you so much, and yet I couldn't save you," he utters, blurting out his feelings without thinking—does he even deserve to tell him now? 

"And I fucked even  _ that  _ up." Caspar chokes back a sob. "Couldn't even tell you the truth before we came here. And now, you can't hear it anymore…"

But as the seconds pass, he realizes that it's slowly growing easier to breathe. 

Linhardt's hold on his throat isn't so tight anymore. He's still holding him, but there's no pressure in his fingers, nothing that prevents him from breathing. Caspar doesn't truly understand what's going on until he hears a quiet whine coming from his dear friend. 

Caspar watches Linhardt as he slowly moves his hand away from his throat, stepping back slowly, and Caspar can see his face again. His mouth is still hung open, but his eyes don't show that deep hunger anymore. Still glowing red, they somehow focus on Caspar with a certain sorrow glinting within them, and when the two face each other, tears of blood begin to stream down Linhardt's face. 

"Linhardt…" Caspar murmurs, and there's a new hope rising from the ashes of his heart. "Can you… hear me?" 

Linhardt can neither nod or form sentences; his teeth are still too large for him to be able to even close his mouth. But the sad frown on his brow says it all, and as Caspar feels life flowing through him again, he manages to grab him by the shoulders. 

Linhardt lets out another noise; a sort of sad, pained groan, before he takes a deep breath as his bloody tears meet the floor. Kronya, completely dumbfounded by the scene that plays before her, stands up from her chair. 

"What the hell is this?!" She yells, and Linhardt's shoulders tense up. "Half-vampire! Tear him to shreds! I'll feed you to my army if you waste any more time!" 

And while that inhuman anger seems to rise within Linhardt once again, he's somehow able to fight it. He bares his fangs, then relaxes his features once more, tears spilling endlessly on the floor.

It looks like this wasn't part of Kronya's plan at all. Caspar knows that for now, Linhardt isn't able to speak, but he doesn't look like he wants to kill him anymore. That's good enough—at least, until Caspar finds a way to bring his soul back. 

"Linhardt, this time I'll save you, I promise," he says, to which Linhardt replies with another choked groan. "Listen… with your current strength, you might be able to break those bars and get us out." He manages to keep a voice quiet enough so that Kronya won't hear. "When we do, I'll take care of her.” His gaze pierces through the room, and his vision nearly turns her as soon as he looks at Kronya directly. “I'll take that vial, and then… we can figure out the rest as we go. Okay?" 

And of course, Linhardt can't answer at all; but Caspar trusts him to understand exactly what he’s saying. But before he goes towards the bars, he first grabs the chain that keeps Caspar stuck to the wall; the veins in his hands pop out as he uses all his strength to break it. Caspar sighs in relief as he begins to move around again, watching as Linhardt towards the bars. Then, Linhardt circles two bars with his clawed hands. 

"What are you doing?!" Kronya suddenly tenses up as she watches him tighten his grasp on the bars. "Kill that human now!" 

What happens next is very different from what Caspar imagined. Linhardt doesn't use his strength this time—he uses the magic contained in his body to slowly burn down the bars. Melted iron seeps through his fingers, and the metal turns red into his hands; it's an impressive and worrying sight all at once, but none of it seems to hurt Linhardt at all. Even the melted iron doesn't manage to injure his skin. 

Even Kronya looks intimidated when she notices the extent of his power in his current state; and of course, she wasn't expecting him to retaliate against  _ her _ . Caspar starts to believe that something miraculous just happened. That if the person in question had been someone other than Linhardt… Caspar would be dead already. 

When Linhardt manages to create a breach large enough between the bars for the both of them to come out, Caspar doesn't hesitate one second more. He rushes out of the cell and towards Kronya; he has no weapon, but he can always use his fists. Lunging towards her with his hand balled into a fist, he prepares to hit her right in the face, but is stopped by her resistance as she grabs his wrists to stop him. 

"It can't be!..." Kronya grunts to herself as she tries to push Caspar away, to no avail. The more she tries to push him back, the more furious Caspar becomes; just thinking for one second about what that monster did to Linhardt makes him grit his teeth and send all his strength into his fist. 

With a battle cry, he manages to push her away with such force that she crashes into the wall behind. Kronya heaves and groans at the sudden pain, desperately trying to scramble back up to defend herself; and as she shakily stands, she grabs a small weapon strapped against her hip. It looks like the dagger she was already using when she first attacked Caspar in his own home. 

This is when Caspar realizes he has to be a little more cautious. His weapon was taken away from him before he was imprisoned, so he barely has anything to defend himself with. 

As his fist clenches, he's surprised to find Linhardt slowly walking in front of him, eyes still bright red and fangs sharper than ever. "Linhardt—" Caspar first utters his name, and he wants to tell him to be careful; but that's all he can do before Linhardt moves forward and jumps towards Kronya. 

"You monster! Stop it! I order you to stop!" Kronya yells as he approaches, and none of what she's saying seems to affect him; by the time she's ready to dodge, Linhardt brings his hand up and prepares his claws, and in just a second, scratches her face deeply. 

The pain causes her to scream all the louder, and it seems to be so intense that she can't help but drop her dagger on the floor. She uses both of her hands to cover her face, groaning and shouting as blood drips between her fingers. When Caspar takes a good look at her, he realizes that one of her eyes was damaged from that. 

He takes a few seconds to register her current state before he rushes towards where she dropped her weapon, grabbing it for himself. Nearby, he can see the vial containing Linhardt's soul sitting on the table—he doesn't think twice before taking it with him as well. For now, he has no idea what to do with it, but… as long as Linhardt's soul still exists, he's still alive. There has to be a way to turn him back to normal. 

This firm belief keeps him standing, full of hope; but they still have to deal with that woman. Kronya is still hissing through the pain, growling like a beast, and… Caspar notices that there are some things changing about her, little by little. As if she'd unleashed the monster within her, her body grows bigger, claws longer… and her jaw unhinges. 

"What the hell…" Caspar whispers to himself as he watches her transformation; it almost looks like she's turning into one of those demonic beasts that were sent to capture Linhardt. 

A loud screech resonates inside the room, coming from within her, something that turns Caspar's blood to ice. He has to act quickly. 

Without thinking twice, he grips the dagger and moves towards her again. At this point, the only thing that could possibly work would be to stab her through the heart; it's what he goes for, but unfortunately misses as his wrist is once again pushed away by Kronya's strengthened hand. Still, he manages to plunge the blade right through her shoulder, causing her to wail and struggle to free herself from his grasp. 

"I'll kill you… I'll fucking kill you!" Kronya grunts, her voice echoing through the dark room; by now, there's nothing on her mind but vengeance. Caspar wants to pull the dagger out, to no avail—it almost seems like something in her body is keeping the blade trapped inside. 

Once again weaponless, he curses under his breath. But he's not alone. Linhardt, despite how unclear everything must be in his head at the moment, still knows that they haven't finished dealing with her just yet. 

Linhardt jumps over the table with a push of one hand, taking her by surprise; the next second, his fangs are plunged into her shoulder, drawing blood as she wails in horror. Caspar feels some of it spraying on his face, so he brings his arm in front of himself to protect his eyes. As he closes them, he can hear the terrifying sound of flesh being torn apart, of Kronya struggling to break free. Linhardt is chewing through her shoulder, ripping off a huge chunk of flesh before spitting it on the ground. But Kronya still attempts an attack despite her pitiful state. 

As she tries to hit him in the stomach with her elbow, Linhardt dodges and rolls as he lands on the floor. Caspar immediately goes to him to check for injuries, but he seems fine—the blood covering his face and teeth doesn't belong to him at the very least. 

Blood spurts out of Kronya's shoulder, and it seems like it's becoming difficult for her to keep fighting. She breathes heavily, her large mouth open wide to reveal her sharp teeth… 

She attempts another attack, this time aiming for Caspar. Whatever she tries to do is soon interrupted by a strange black hole opening right above her. 

The black and purple mass settles right behind her neck, and Caspar isn't sure what it does exactly; all he knows is that Kronya is starting to convulse as her body twists. 

Her bones break one by one with sickening cracking sounds, leaving her a mess on the floor, barely alive. Even Caspar feels sick from the sight. But he doesn't look at it for long; his attention is soon caught by another voice resonating in the corridor nearby. 

"There you are!" Lysithea shouts, and while there's definitely a bite to her words, her eyes shine with immense relief. She's accompanied by Petra, who's holding an injured Dorothea. "Linhardt, what happened to you?!" 

Of course, Linhardt doesn't answer. He still needs help. Caspar takes the vial with him before grabbing Linhardt's wrist to lead him out of the room. "His soul was taken out of his body!" Caspar explains with a panicked tone, to which Lysithea's eyes narrow. "There's something we can do to turn him back to normal, right?!" 

To be honest, he has no clue if that's the case. It would be a miracle if it were possible; and for a silent moment, Lysithea stops to think. 

"How could they…" she mutters with gritted teeth. "Yes, there should be a way. But we need to find a specific machine for this. Let's search through the hideout!" 

Caspar feels like a heavy burden is being lifted off his heart. They still have to find it, but the knowledge that it even  _ exists _ is enough to keep him going for now. He can only hope that Linhardt heard it and feels the same. 

But now that they’re out, they also need to find the rest of their friends. Caspar vaguely remembers them being surprised by Agarthan soldiers as well, although he can’t remember if they were drugged like he was. Judging by the state Dorothea’s in, it seems like she went through something similar… although her soul most likely wasn’t removed.

As they move through the hideout, however, more people begin to reappear from every corner, Dimitri and Byleth escape from a cell on the second-floor by breaking through the wall thanks to Dimitri’s werewolf strength; Ashe and Dedue quickly follow along as well. Soon, Edelgard, Hubert and Bernadetta show up from a corridor with a lightly injured Ferdinand at their side, and Hilda, Marianne and Claude soon join them. 

The group is reunited into a large hall which seems to be the center of this hideout; neon lights light up the way through, and they eradicate every single Agarthan they come in contact with. Caspar is still tightly holding Linhardt’s hand, pulling him along while the other man keeps on fighting his instincts. 

Every second, Caspar is afraid that said instincts will take over. But he can tell that Linhardt is doing all he can to stay conscious despite everything. “Alright, we can do this,” Caspar breathes out as he stops running, turning to Linhardt. “Stay with me, okay? I promised I’d save you, and I will!”

To this, the corners of Linhardt’s mouth curl up. Despite his large teeth and bloody eyes, he musters something that looks like a smile, and he lets out another groan that Caspar takes as an agreement. 

“Caspar! Over here!” 

He hears the voice of his friend Ashe; who’s holding tightly onto his bow, face covered in blood—most likely not his own—and eyes glimmering. Who knows what he did to get out of where he was trapped. “I think that’s… the machine you’re looking for?”

Indeed, Ashe is standing in front of a large structure against a wall, but the thing doesn’t even look like a machine. It simply resembles a decorative sculpture that blends in with the rest of the room. But now that Caspar looks closely, he can see a chair, two armrests with needles protruding upwards, and… a little box with a hole shaped like the vial he’s been holding onto. 

“This is it!” Edelgard confirms as she rushes towards it, dusting it off; she looks like she’s very familiar with this tool. Caspar doesn’t waste any time. He quickly guides Linhardt towards the seat, and right before he helps him to sit down, he grabs his chin to kiss him on the cheek. He thought about giving him a proper kiss, but with all these huge teeth, he’s not sure—

“Now isn’t the time, Caspar!” Lysithea urges him and shoves Linhardt onto the seat. Caspar pushes his embarrassment back into a corner of his mind, instead examining the positionment of the various elements. He worries again when he realizes that the two needles coming out of the armrests are supposed to prick directly into his wrists if he is to put his arms down… 

Linhardt, still seeming unsure of what’s going on, doesn’t move any further. But Hubert quickly grabs his wrists and pins them down directly onto the armrests; Caspar can  _ hear  _ the sound of the needles going right through his flesh.

“Hey! You’re hurting him!” Caspar shouts, absolutely distressed—but Edelgard quickly turns towards him.

“He’s been through worse, something like this won’t kill him,” she affirms, then points to the box nearby. “Put that vial in the hole now! Then… everything will be okay.”

There’s a tinge of worry in her tone, but Caspar doesn’t spend time thinking about it. He walks up to that box, then shoves the vial right into the hole that was designed for it. The moment it locks into place, the machine lights up in neon blue; and something strange happens.

Caspar isn’t sure he comprehends any of it. He sees streaks of light everywhere, so bright that he has to close his eyes. He hears Linhardt screaming, his image growing blurry when he opens his eyes back up. Blood drips down from his wrists and onto the armrests, and slowly, his appearance changes. His teeth go back to their normal size, his eyes stop bleeding, and his claws revert back like nothing ever happened. Caspar feels his heart beating out of his chest, a smile coming back to his lips, before a sharp pain makes itself known in his side. 

“Caspar!” He hears Claude exclaiming his name, before he looks down to find the source of the pain. A knife is plunged into his side, and the hand that’s holding it belongs to none other than Kronya, who somehow survived Lysithea’s attack and made it all the way here. 

It hurts like hell, but dizziness is soon what overcomes the pain. Kronya pulls out the weapon, and Byleth immediately comes to cover the wound with her hand and prevent the blood from pouring out the best she can. Wavering on his feet, Caspar nearly collapses on her before he’s caught by Dedue, who helps him sit down.

No… this can’t be happening now, can it? Just as Linhardt is regaining consciousness…

Caspar isn’t even sure what’s happening anymore. But he can definitely see Linhardt’s silhouette getting up from the machine and immediately rushing towards him. 

The pain in Linhardt’s wrists is something he can ignore for now, even if the rivulets of blood coming down his hands is a sight he’d rather not have to deal with. Although… the blood that’s coming out of Caspar’s side is a lot more worrying.

“Caspar, I’m here!” He manages to shout, surprised by the sound of his own voice after being unable to use it for the past hour. Claude fires an arrow directly into Kronya’s head, which seems to be the killing blow,  _ finally _ —but there’s something else they need to take care of.

“I’ll heal him! Let me do it!” Linhardt insists, and as Byleth tries to give him room, a loud rumble can be heard. 

And a few pebbles fall down from the ceiling. 

Linhardt already has his hand on Caspar’s side, forcing his healing magic out to close the wound. “Caspar, please, stay,” Linhardt breathes rapidly, trying to keep his panic down; if he doesn’t focus on his healing, he could lose Caspar forever. And after all that, he can’t allow himself to fail. 

He uses his free hand to wipe his eyelids; tears are mixed with the blood he still has on his face, leaving a red mark on his finger. He quickly suppresses his nausea by biting at the inside of his lip. 

“Lin! The hideout is collapsing!” Dorothea finally catches his attention. “We need to leave!” 

Linhardt only now realizes what exactly is going on. Somehow, his friends drag him and Caspar away without breaking the link between his trembling hand and Caspar’s wound. The next second, he’s sitting on Marianne’s back after she transforms back to her werewolf form. Caspar is in front of him, barely conscious, still managing a little grin when he realizes that Linhardt is back to normal.

As the walls around them crack and they rush to the nearest exit, Linhardt sends out all the healing light he has to save him. He tries to steady his heartbeat, keeping Caspar close…

“I’m so happy…” Caspar murmurs to him, eyes brimming with tears of relief; Linhardt instantly chokes back a sob.

“Save it for when you’re safe!” Linhardt replies shakily, still trying his hardest to not deviate his focus. His chest feels so tight, as if it were shrinking on itself. “Caspar. Caspar, look at me.” 

Still completely dizzy, Caspar manages to gaze at him through half-lidded eyes. Linhardt keeps his eyes on him for a moment, remembering slowly what happened.

Caspar… managed to bring his true self back after he thought it had been completely lost. He could’ve killed him back in that cell, but Caspar did all he could to bring him back, and succeeded. In a time Linhardt had lost all hope, Caspar gave him that hope  _ back _ .

“I can never thank you enough… for everything you did,” Linhardt speaks slowly, ignoring the constant rumbling in the walls as they escape with their friends. “I also need to tell you, I—”

Caspar laughs lightly, which interrupts Linhardt’s words. “Save it for when I’m safe,” he repeats his exact words back to him, before placing his hand on top of Linhardt’s to support him, to remind him that he’s here no matter what. “Because, honestly… I’m not gonna remember anything that’s going on right now.”

Linhardt’s confession dies on his tongue, but he’s going to do as Caspar says; wait for a time when the both of them can fully understand it, a peaceful time that will stay in their memories forever. He purses his lips and nods quickly.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and the next time he opens them, he can see the full moon right above them. As the group escapes the hideout from another exit that leads to a large field, the structure collapses behind them, and Linhardt feels like he can finally breathe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're okay yall! I can't believe we're so close to the end... I already started writing chapter 15 so hopefully ill be able to post that one soon :)
> 
> Feel free to follow me on twitter [**@beelzebumons**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons)!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the finale,,,
> 
> No cw for this chapter! hope you like it!!

When Caspar notices how dark Linhardt’s eyes are, he realizes that he probably hasn’t slept at all last night. 

After they had gotten out of the Agarthans’ hideout and Linhardt had healed the most of his stab wound, Caspar had to be taken to the hospital to deal with his broken arm as well. He doesn’t remember much about any of this, however. It had taken a full night of sleep in the hospital for him to be fully conscious again, with his arm now in a cast and his side bandaged. 

Linhardt had stayed by his side the entire time, holding his hands as if he were unable to let go. The two of them had come terribly close… so Caspar believes it’s alright if they keep holding hands like this, no matter for how long. 

Shortly after his visiting friends leave the hospital room, another group comes; one that Caspar hadn’t expected at all. The one opening the door is Edelgard, and she’s accompanied by Lysithea and Bernadetta—the three of them had somehow found clothing to wear that wouldn’t make them stand out and reveal their identities. 

“I’m relieved to see that you’re well,” Edelgard says with a calm smile. “Hubert wanted to apologize for the fact that he couldn’t join us. He has to sleep when it’s still so bright outside.”

“That’s fine!” Caspar beams, and Linhardt can’t help but yawn at the mention of Hubert’s name. “I mean, I didn’t think any of you would come visit anyway. Thank you though!”

Slightly annoyed, Edelgard closes her eyes. “Do you really think none of us would be worried after you got hurt so badly fighting against our enemy?” She asks before her features relax. “I cannot describe the immense relief I felt when I saw that everyone came out of this mission alive. I think Linhardt knows well how I feel about that matter.”

Linhardt, who’s almost leaning against Caspar’s bed and rubbing his eyes from fatigue, grumbles lightly. A faint ‘yeah’ is all he manages to answer in his current state, and Caspar can’t help but feel endeared. 

“I… brought you something to eat,” Lysithea utters as she walks closer, setting down a bag on the table next to the bed. Caspar brings his hand to it to check what’s inside; it’s full of various sweets he’s never seen before.

“They’re a specialty from Enbarr,” she says, and it almost looks like she’s sad to give them away. “You’d better savor them, alright? They’re the best in the continent!” 

Caspar realizes that it’s probably best if he waits to eat them; it looks like eating one of those in front of her might result in her cold stare piercing through him. “Thank you so much, Lysithea! I’ll make sure to do just that!” 

Before Lysithea can start talking about the sweets again, Edelgard decides to step in with a question, this time directed at Linhardt. “Tell me… you truly don’t plan on returning to Enbarr, do you?”

To this, Linhardt’s eyes open once again—he looks disgruntled to have been bothered as he was about to fall asleep, but he gives a resigned sigh. It doesn’t seem like he can escape from this conversation anyway. 

“As I’ve said before,” Linhardt begins as he passes a hand through his disheveled hair. “Enbarr is not a place where I can be happy. No amount of protection will make up for the violence I would have to see each day, as well as the constant nagging from my parents. Ever since I got in Garreg Mach, I’ve felt…”

Before he finishes his sentence, he looks back at Caspar, and their eyes meet. Caspar feels another rush of warmth through his heart when Linhardt looks at him so fondly; it’s something he couldn’t explain until very recently... and he’d confessed that to Linhardt last night while he was transformed. It’s honestly embarrassing that he wasn’t able to do it before then.

“Well, I’ve actually never felt so happy before,” Linhardt continues, looking back to the three women. “So I plan on staying in Garreg Mach, no matter what my parents have to say about the matter.”

For an instant, Caspar thinks Edelgard is going to try and lecture him again; but she doesn’t. She simply nods in acknowledgement. 

“I will relay the message to them,” she says as she gets ready to leave. “Although I still think it would be better for you to explain it all in a letter to them. I know they would like to hear from you once again.”

Linhardt thinks about it for a few seconds, then nods with a smile. “I’ll take the time to do that.”

After the three visitors take their leave, Linhardt and Caspar once again find themselves alone in the room; a silence hangs over them for a few minutes, and at first, Caspar isn't sure he should talk. Linhardt truly seems like he's going to fall asleep anytime now, but surprisingly, he doesn't let exhaustion beat him this time. He blinks a few times to wake himself up, then turns to Caspar once more. 

"All this time, I've been hiding in your home because I was in danger," Linhardt begins, and Caspar brings his attention back to him. "Now that the threat is gone, I was wondering… if it would be appropriate for me to stay with you anyway."

The statement surprises Caspar greatly; he'd never even thought about it, to be completely honest. He turns to Linhardt to look at him directly in the eyes. 

"Are you kidding?" He says with a grin. "I don't care that you don't need to hide anymore! You can come back to my place for as long as you want!"

He takes a deep breath. He has to make it clear that he isn't simply being charitable—he quickly rubs his hand against the back of his neck, battling the urge to avert his eyes.

"I actually… really want you to stay with me." Caspar gives another of his joyful smiles, feeling like his heart is about to burst before he can say those simple words. "... 'cause I love you!" 

And it seems to be the answer Linhardt was dying to hear. Perhaps he'd only brought that up in order to have some reassurance. He brings Caspar's hand to his cheek, gently nuzzling it before gazing at him—his eyes are filled with warmth, and Caspar can't help but lose himself in them for an instant before Linhardt speaks up again. 

"I love you too, Caspar," he utters happily, slowly, as if he'd been waiting to say these words for a long time. "There are many things I would like to thank you for, once again; but for now, I want to thank you for accepting me into your life. Into your wonderful world."

"Aw, Linhardt—" Caspar's voice cracks slightly. "—the hell, you're gonna make me cry…" 

And it looks like Linhardt is suppressing a few tears of joy as well, although Caspar decides that he won't point it out. Endeared, he wraps his arm around his lover's waist and squeezes lightly. 

His lover. Just  _ thinking  _ those words makes his heart flutter uncontrollably. 

"You make me so happy I could just pick you up and twirl you around!" Caspar barks out a laugh, and Linhardt gasps in surprise before laughing along. To make him stop, he lightly tickles Caspar's side. 

"Haha— Hey !" 

"You should stay calm until we get home, I don't want you hurting yourself more than you already did," Linhardt says while shaking his head, although he keeps his smile through it. "When you're healed up… you can pick me up and twirl me around as many times as you want."

Caspar knows that Linhardt is right—plus, that prospect is sure to have him heal magically faster. With Linhardt's help, his injuries will be gone in no time. 

Happier than he's ever been, Caspar spends the next few hours repeating how much he loves Linhardt, how glad he is that they're going to spend so much time together from now on. Linhardt makes sure to return every gesture of affection, every gentle word, until they're finally ready to return home. 

*

Three months have passed since then, and some things have changed; Caspar has decided to rent another, slightly bigger apartment to accommodate the needs of two people. He's still working as a physical education teacher, but he's not the only one participating in paying rent and the bills anymore. Indeed, Linhardt has started working part-time at the library, something that he's been enjoying quite a lot. 

Thankfully, the two of them have similar schedules, so they don't spend too much time away from each other. That day, when Caspar gets home, he gets on his laptop while waiting for Linhardt to return as well. 

After opening a tab to check his bank account, he notices that someone just sent him… two thousand gold. 

"What the—"

Before he can do anything, he hears the key turning to open his door, then turns around to look at Linhardt as he's coming inside, setting his bag on the floor. 

"I'm home," he yawns as he walks to the desk, taking off his glasses and bending down to kiss a very disgruntled Caspar on the cheek. 

"Is something wrong?" Linhardt asks as he gently wraps his arms around Caspar's neck. 

"It's your parents again, they—" Caspar grumbles, but he does admit that his boyfriend's loving gestures help in calming him down a little. "They sent another two thousand! They can't keep doing this!" 

"Ah…" Linhardt examines the screen for a few seconds before looking back at him. "What bothers you so much about it?" 

Caspar scratches his head a little before turning his chair to face Linhardt. Looking at that number on the screen unnerves him too much. "It's just, we're both grown adults with jobs, they don't  _ need  _ to do that! We can't accept this…"

Linhardt lets out a sigh, then sits on Caspar's lap. Yet another tactic to calm him down—but Caspar won't complain about  _ that _ . 

"Caspar, they're so rich that they don't even know what to do with their money anymore," Linhardt explains, "and it looks like it makes them happy to support us financially." 

"I guess, but…" Caspar lowers his gaze as Linhardt kisses his forehead. "I dunno, I'm still really not used to all this stuff! I've never even had that much money for myself before!" 

It had taken a few weeks after the beginning of their relationship for the two to truly realize how different their upbringings had been, and how differently the two could react over this sort of thing, but it had never been something they would seriously argue over. Linhardt seems to perfectly understand Caspar's reaction, but in order to have him calm down a little more, he clicks out of that window. 

"It took some time for them to fully accept my relationship with you—not that I ever needed their approval, but it is nice to know that they are supportive of my choices, for once," Linhardt explains, "I never asked for any money, but if it is their own way of showing me that they've accepted the life I chose for myself, I will not go against their will." 

Caspar hums; he knows it makes sense, and he's happy that Linhardt's parents finally changed their minds about all this. He quietly wishes that his father would feel the same, but… it's still too early to tell him. One day, he'll work up the courage for it.

Still unsure about the money, he decides to let it go for now and think about it later. But before he can say anything more, Linhardt finds something else to add on top of all the rest. 

"Well, if you'd like to ask them to stop sending us money, I won't mind at all," Linhardt begins as he passes a hand through his own hair. "You'd have to do it when we meet up with them in two weeks." 

Caspar's breath hitches, and his eyes snap wide open. 

"Hold on,  _ what _ ?" 

Linhardt nods in affirmation, then gives him a playful smile. "I spoke with them this morning; it looks like they really want to meet you officially. We won't go to Enbarr, of course. I invited them to that fancy restaurant where you and I had our first date. What do you think?" 

Caspar buries his face in the crook of Linhardt's neck, squeezing his arms around his waist. "What do I think?! I'm nervous as hell!" He whines with gritted teeth. "I mean, I knew it was gonna happen eventually, but it feels, I dunno, strange?" 

"Strange, hm?" Linhardt echoes as he gently brings his hands on the sides of Caspar's face, raising it so that the two can look at each other once more. "Yes, a little. Things are getting rather serious, aren't they? I feel strange as well.” He pauses, letting out a relaxed sigh. “But… I am  _ very  _ happy with you. As long as you're happy with me too, I really want this to last."

Caspar feels warmer with every word, more entranced every second Linhardt's eyes bore into him. Sure, he’s nervous; he can only hope he’ll live up to the expectations of Linhardt’s parents. Still, nervousness is only a background noise that he can ignore for now. 

"Of course I’m happy! I'm the happiest man in the world!" He exclaims, before bringing his lips to Linhardt's own. 

The two share a loving kiss, smiling against each other's lips, hands linked and fingers intertwined. When they part, Caspar looks up to find that Linhardt's eyes have turned crimson. 

He's used to that sight and what it usually means by now. It’s almost a silent request. "You hungry?" Caspar asks as he begins to unbutton his shirt. "Go for it, babe."

Linhardt's fangs show from behind his parted lips before he offers an eager smile. 

"Thank you for the meal," he jokes, before mouthing at his neck once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the full story! It was honestly really fun to write, I did take a while to finish because lockdown really killed my creativity for a while,, but im so glad i managed to finish it. 
> 
> I plan to write another casphardt longfic like this soon! Idk when I'll start posting it tho, but ill def talk about it on twitter when i do! So feel free to follow me [**@beelzebumons**](https://twitter.com/Beelzebumons)!


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